


Drinking Games!

by Kosho, SBlackmane



Series: Two Grumpy Elves and Other Tales [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Basically two elves trying to hook up while the world is ending cliche, Bit of will they/won't they, Cadash is a little shit, Crushes, Drinking Games, Drunken Confessions, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love at First Sight, M/M, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Playing devil's advocate, Secret Crush, Sexual Tension, This is too much fun, We should NOT be having this much fun messing with the lives of fictional characters, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 63,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBlackmane/pseuds/SBlackmane
Summary: (Sequel to Cheers!)Anything can happen at the tavern. Might play a game of cards, might fall in love at first sight. Never know.It's an Inquisition fanfic. Anything is possible.





	1. Chapter 1

“Take a nap, I can keep watch for a bit.” Falcon tells me.

I’m stubborn normally, but I’m willing to rest, rather than argue with the guy who got the cool name. He’s a few inches taller, stares down at me and doesn’t think twice about the eye contact, like he’s daring me to blink. I do, of course, but not because I’m afraid, no, it’s because I’m supposed to be this way. Blend in, and most of the time, that means acting a touch weaker, or a host of other situations. 

I asked for this. Anything to get away from where I’d been, to do something different with my life, and the Inquisition was definitely different. I shuffle off to the tent, not bothering to do anything to get comfortable, except falling into my bedroll with a groan before I’m out. 

After a few brief hours of sleep, I roll back out, inhaling the cold air, waking up quickly when I feel that familiar sharpness to it. Falcon looks to me, grinning stupidly before he looks away. 

“What’s so funny?” I ask, not truly caring one way or the other. 

He reaches a hand down, sweeping through my hair a few times. When he stops, he leans against a low wall, gesturing to my head, then holding his hands over his own. 

“Your hair was such a mess. Can tell you actually slept well for once.” He says conversationally. 

We’re about the same age, I think, but we’re almost complete opposites. He’s taller, though I’m not really very short. I have darker eyes, like lazurite, I’ve heard, and he’s got pale green eyes. I’ve got medium hair, dark, his is long and silvery. He’s got his vallaslin, and I’ve...disappointed my family, no doubt, but I made my own, had them done in my own way. He’s pretty laid back, not what I expected from someone who grew up in the woods. You can tell he’s sort of more traditional, but it’s mostly covered by how well he’s adapted to humans. My methods were always less ‘blend in’ and more ‘go completely unnoticed ‘ I suppose. 

That’s exactly why I’ve learned the most here. They watch from the walls, I’ve been  _ in _ . The Nightingale will certainly be very interested to hear what I’ve got to tell her. The Herald though…I hardly know him. Seen him once or twice before, never spoke to him. I can’t say beyond the rumors what kind of person he is, so who am I to offer odds on whether or not he wants mages or buckets. 

“Yeah, pretty sound I’d wager. Be sleeping a little bit better once we get back to Haven. Get a few days off and enjoy a little luxury before we’re thrown out again.” I say with a quiet laugh. Starling wanders by to the tents, yawning into her palm, she’s been up a while too. “Few more days, then a bit more for walking? Be back in about a week and I can sleep on a decent bed, have a bath, and some piss poor ale.”

“Stop, you’re making me want to go home now.” Falcon sighs. 

It’s far from what either of us prefer, but compared to what was out  _ here _ ? Might as well have been the best we ever had. 

“Not me. Rather be back in Haven any day.” I disagree. 

He snorts in disbelief, shaking his head. “What? Couldn’t handle the good life?” 

“I don’t know what you mean. I’ve been mustering in a cave for years now. Anything is better than that.” I lie, as easily as if I’ve never said a word of truth in my life. “Heard I was raised by wolves or something?” 

He frowns, shaking his head. “No, I’d actually heard you.” He stops, shaking his head again. “It doesn’t matter what I heard. Listening to rumors won’t always mean accuracy.” 

One of The Nightingale’s basics. Always listen to rumors, but remember to doubt. He knew most of the stories, of course none were ever quite right. Funny, really. 

“I’ll go in and see if anything changed.” I say.

“Of course. I recall we get to leave earlier if we learn something important. Or if nothing happens.” He says. 

“Something  _ always _ happens.” I remind him. “If I’m not back in twenty, I’m probably dead.” 

“We’ll grieve you, briefly but fairly.” He says. 

Rolling my eyes, I slip over the wall, not even one Templar glancing in my direction as I slip by, into the fortress. Barely inside the gates and I already notice something curious. Before, there were crates of lyrium, but they were moved elsewhere, it seemed. The Lord Seeker and many of the higher ranking Templars were absent too. The rest seem to be echoing sentiments of not knowing what was going on and that they were hesitant to go along with this. I wish I could get my hands on solid proof that something big was going on, but it was strongly suggestive if nothing else. 

I poke around just a bit longer, carefully pocketing a few scraps of paper and some letters that look important, tucked safely into a sturdy pouch. Returning to the gates, I hastily climb back up and over, more than a bit excited after seeing what it is I’ve pilfered. Indeed, it looks like we get to return earlier than expected. Whatever this was, certainly Leliana would like to know. Perhaps the Herald would appreciate the information as well, not that he expected anything of it. Gratitude alone never guaranteed return on the effort. A few coins, always, but rarely anything else, like a thank you. 

Falcon goes to wake Starling again, and they start dismantling the camp already. Technically we should probably wait until someone says we can, but no one ever wants to wait for the damned letter, least of all me. 

“Piper, ya gotta stop being so good, there’s been talk of the Commander wanting to steal y’from Sister Leliana.” Starling says, the Starkhaven in her still thick in her words.

“Let him try. Rather sleep on the ground for the rest of my life than be crammed into those barracks.” I snort at the idea. “Wouldn’t be so bad if I could keep my room.” 

“If you like fighting so much, then why bother sneaking at all?” Falcon questions. 

“Like I could take on a camp of bandits by myself. Or Templars, if it came to it.” I say pointedly. 

“Ya took out two bear in the Hinterlands, I don’t think bandits are going to give ya that much trouble.  _ Templars  _ though. Aye.” Starling says.

Over several hours, the conversation dwindles down to only an occasional remark. By the time the gates of Haven come into view, we’re silent and dragging. I’d go for a bath first if I wasn’t ready to spend the rest of the day sleeping first. Everything else could wait, I figured. 

The assumption the Nightingale would be pleased wasn’t wrong. She seems very satisfied with the report and the findings, and I’ve earned myself a solid week to rest, the longest I’ll have been here since I signed up, truthfully. I cross the yard from there, into a small dwelling. Belonged to someone else, but they’d died at the Conclave too, and they just hadn’t gotten around to filling it. Not that anyone said I could use it ever. I took it over, and it seems no one’s had the heart, or perhaps the balls to kick me out. 

Pausing to unbuckle my armor, I shrug it off, letting it lay where it lands, kicking off my boots and falling into bed with the heavy thump one might expect a full grown elf to make when hitting thick blankets, I suppose. 

It’s already the next morning when I pry myself away from the bed, remembering that I have other needs I’d ignored long enough. This time, I force myself to wait, hitting the bath first, uncaring of the lukewarm water, I stay there longer than I might normally, content to ease my aching muscles for a bit before the raging grumble of my stomach is too noticeable to ignore. I hear for the mess, too ready to loaf about for the next week to bother with my coin purse. I’ve certainly stomached worse than what they serve here anyway. 

A drink sounds nice. Maybe several. I don’t usually have many chances to frequent taverns, so it seems a nice change of pace. Really, I imagine it would be a relief that I’m just doing that than breaking into things and pinching some stuff here and there. Then again, if I’m lucky I don’t have to bring my coin there either. I tend to think I’m too busy to get to know most, but the truth is I don’t mind the perks at least. Extra food, free drinks, if not that, then he supposed his ties were enough to achieve the same result, but why dust off the details when there was no need. 

The meal is bland and dry, but it’s enough to quiet my stomach. Reaching up, i unclasp the front of my tunic, down just enough to get some air, and maybe a bit more than enough to show off just a glimpse of the designs sprawling across my chest and up my neck. There’s plenty more, of course, but this is usually the most people get to see. Less if they end up on the wrong side of my arrows. 

Sighing a bit, I reach up a bit higher, taking my fingers through my hair again, just in case. I usually don’t think about it too much, but it crosses my mind at the door. I find a seat off in the back corner, kicking back. In the time it takes to stretch out a bit, an overwhelmed barmaid that seems to be aiding Flissa brings over three drinks and a side of soup with a bit of bread, gesturing to a few already drunk patrons. 

To be honest, this is quite familiar, in the last few years I’d gotten used to the attention. A hazard of living the life is hastily chosen to escape being bored out of my senses. Still just a touch hungry, I begin with the food, if only so they can have their bowl back. Someone knew my taste at least, or had guessed it correctly at least. One was piss weak, the second, some dwarven drink, I think, and the last, I know by smell alone, special brew made with just a touch of a paralytic potion, enough to give you an all too pleasant tingle for a while, but not nearly enough to do anything truly awful. 

Best to end with that one, I think. I settle for going from weakest to most potent, wrinkling my nose at the bitter taste of the first. One would be forgive for imagining this to be a Ferelden drink, on the contrary this one was from the Marches. I’ve got a few more drinks in, when the bard decides to sing, most booing her. That isn’t what gets my notice, instead, the door smacking open suddenly that gets me to look up from my drink. Something tells me it’s going to be an interesting morning, or perhaps I’m just expecting someone to completely shatter my dreams of having a little time to breathe. Because I absolutely do. I half expect to be sent right back out now, but it doesn’t seem to be anyone bearing the usual ‘ruining your day’ attire. Then again,it’s none of my business, not for the moment, at least. That in mind, I get back to the bitter drink, this time able to avoid reacting to it as poorly. How anyone could enjoy a drink as heinous as this was beyond me, but I don’t feel like wasting it, not when it might still contribute a little to a good buzz. 

There’s a shadow across the table, and I reach my leg under the table and kick it outward a bit in invitation. I don’t bother looking, most identify themselves quickly enough, I’m just bracing for it still to be a thorn preparing to jab my side. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

_**Elias** _

I’ll tell you now, I’ve had a shit day.

Since the moment I got back from the Fallow Mire–long story I’ll save for a later date–I have been swamped with work. It seems just about every person at Haven has caught some sort of illness, and it might be something being passed around at the tavern. Whoever Flissa has working for her over at the Maiden probably hasn’t been cleaning the dishware thoroughly enough, which means once again I’ll have to lecture the serving maids about the spreading of sickness.

I’ve already given two separate lectures down at the mess tent, and one at the tavern. If I have to do it once more I’ll bloody tear this place apart with my bare hands. Unfortunately, my human apprentices, Sevan and Georgiana, have both suffered for my sour mood this week, and are practically tiptoeing around me. They hardly say a word to me, which only makes my mood even worse because I can’t stand people being afraid of me. It makes me feel horrible.

I’m an apostate mage and all my life people have only ever been afraid of me, with the exception of maybe a handful. Even if they don’t show it, doesn’t mean they’re not still cautious of me, because they think I’m dangerous. Well, I’m not. I have absolutely no talent whatsoever with destructive spells. None. I’ve only ever excelled at spirit magic, and maybe some other forms of magic that just come naturally to me, but none of those include spouting fire or lightning.

I can do some minor things, like boiling water and such, but nothing substantial. Oh but I’ve been exhausting my magic all day though, using it to clean everything at my work station twice over to keep sickness from spreading. On my hands and knees scrubbing the floor with a cleansing solution, both in the infirmary and my own quarters. I’ve wiped every inch of it with cloth to get rid of dust, and even washed the bedding three times over. Still, it’s just so filthy.

I’ve never known a dirtier place than Haven. Being gone for so many weeks almost made me forget. And sometimes, like on evenings like this one, I actually wish I was back at the Mire with the undead. But I’m here, and I’m already agitated, and I haven’t had supper yet. Two Chantry Sisters and a snobbish noble woman have ruined my day. I need whiskey. Ale won’t cut it this evening. I’m in rare form when I enter the tavern, but freeze in place when I see a chair that’s usually empty is full.

I blink in surprise when I see a lonesome figure sitting in the corner at my table–well, it’s not my table; could be filled with anyone when I’m not here, but it’s the table I usually pick–and it’s filled with a person, sitting right where my friend Siva used to sit. It’s an elf and for a moment I think it’s him, so I rush to the table, but again I freeze when I see it’s another, someone I’ve yet to speak to. Not a stranger per say, as he’s Inquisition. One of Leliana’s. But we’ve never been introduced.

My throat threatens to close when I get a look at him. Handsome, especially from this angle, hunched over a drink, tunic open, bearing a chest covered in beautiful tattoos. Not any Dalish markings I’ve ever seen, something unique, and it catches my eye the way the lines curve in complimentary shapes. My heart pounds. After what happened with Lieutenant Wickam, I’ve sworn off all men. Human, elven, dwarven, all of them, and I won’t dare get attached to this one even if he shows interest, but…

My, but he’s handsome, this one.

He looks to be taller than me, perhaps a bit bigger too. A rogue, I suspect, with a toned, agile body built for wielding a blade, or drawing on a bow. Shoulder length hair that looks soft and feathery light to touch, though rich and dark in color. Two beautiful azure blue eyes that stare into a mug of something. Mouth curving just a little at the corner in a smile as if he had a sudden errant thought he finds amusing. Long straight nose, narrow but shapely jaw. In essence: perfection.

Yes, I believe I’ve finally found a man here at Haven I find more alluring than the rakish Commander.

And my pulse races when I catch sight of him.

I take a moment to work up the nerve to sit down. I look around to find another empty chair, but the tavern is filling quickly, and more and more people are filing in as I debate. After a moment I sigh and approach the table, hands trembling in nervousness. I’m only good at approaching people when I’m drunk, otherwise I’m a bumbling idiot around new people. But I’m tired, my eyes hurt, and I want a drink, so I wave to Flissa and walk over to the table. Amazingly, my chair is pushed out.

He doesn’t even look up. Just pushes it out with his foot in invitation and I gingerly sit. Still hasn’t looked up yet. A serving girl approaches the table. “What’ll you have, dearie?” she asks me.

Only when I speak does he look up.

“Strongest whiskey you’ve got, love,” I answer, slicking my hair away from my face and tying it back in its ponytail, as it had come undone. I must look an absolute wreck. I removed my white smock and left it with the washers, but I still have on the same samite tunic and leather breeches I’ve worn for the last three days. I haven’t had much sleep, and no doubt it shows. Gods, I must look awful, while this gentleman across me looks delectable. Oh, what should it matter. I swore off men, right?

I shouldn’t be trying to look tempting for anyone. And good grief, I don’t even know yet if he even prefers the company of other males. Maybe he doesn’t even like other elves at all and fancies dwarven company. _Stop thinking about such things!_ I remind myself and attempt to smile. Doesn’t quite reach my eyes though, and probably comes off as more of a grimace. Maybe I shouldn’t have sat down at my usual table. Maybe I should’ve left well alone.

Bought a bottle of something and taken it back to my quarters to drink alone.

I shouldn’t try to socialize when I’m in this sort of mood.

But I’m a bit of an idiot, I suppose.

“So, are you new around here?” I ask, and he stares at me for a moment, watching my mouth as I speak, like he’s deaf, or maybe I just spoke too fast. “Oh, sorry. Stupid question. You’re one of the scouts, yes? Name’s Elias. I’m the Healer. I work up by the Chantry. Unfortunately I don’t see much here at Haven to talk about. But I bet you’ve got some interesting stories to share, yes? See a lot of things in your travels?…I am rambling. I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.”

And I can tell by the heat on my face I’m blushing right now, and I’m red as a cherry.

This was a bad idea. Just…Oh gods is this awkward!

He stares at me in confusion for a moment, like he doesn’t know what to say to me, and I can’t take it. Ever since I got back from the Mire, things just haven’t been the same. I can’t talk to people anymore, not like I used to. And ever since Wickam, I can’t so much as admire another man without my chest tightening in fear. Not even Cullen. Sure, I can look at him while discussing the details of my assignment, make eye contact when speaking on professional matters, but making idle conversation?

I can’t do it. I never shouldn’t have sat down. I should’ve listened to my gut and stayed in my quarters.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “It was nice to have met you, whoever you are.”

I practically leap from my seat to get away from this impossibly beautiful elf and rush out the door, not even waiting for the serving girl to bring me my drink. As quickly as possible I stumble back to my cabin, close and lock the door, hiding behind it. I rest my head against it, closing my eyes, then sinking to the floor. My heart pounds in my ears, both from the adrenaline rush from sprinting, and the fear of having made an utter fool of myself in all of five minutes.

I can practically hear Varric already, saying, “Oh come on, Whiskers, don’t be such a scaredy-cat.” Then laughing at his own joke.

But I can’t help it. All I’ve ever been to a man is just a fling. Nothing more than a one-night-stand. Nobody wants to be serious with another man. No human wants an elven lover, and no one wants an apostate. Maybe this one would be different, as he’s another elf, but I doubt it. Most people think I’m funny, and I make for a good laugh when I’m drunk, but I think most others find me annoying, and very quickly tire of my company. They say I talk too much, and I haven’t the brains of most.

I’m not stupid, otherwise I wouldn’t be Haven’s healer; I just can’t read or write all that well, and I don’t know much about history and what-not. Happens when you spend most of your life on your own, and I’ve been on my own since I was but a boy. I learned much of what I know from the Avvar here in the south, but as far as the rest of the world, I haven’t much knowledge of it. Oh, that pretty elf in the tavern would probably hate me anyway and tell me to piss off.

My stomach grumbles as I sit there on the floor, wallowing in self-pity. I should go back to the tavern and get supper. I shouldn’t hide here in my cabin like a coward. I’ve never let my personal feelings get between me and my dinner, and I shouldn’t do it now. A cat’s gotta eat, you know. Can’t starve myself, or I’ll be no good to anyone at all. With a sigh, I turn to exit my cabin and face the music, swearing I won’t let my feelings get the better of me.

 _He’s nothing, Eli,_ I tell myself. _Just another elf._ _He’s no one at all. Doesn’t even matter. Your heart is made of stone, and no one can hurt you._

“Please, gods above, let this elf prefer women,” I pray aloud, to whatever gods might exist, and might actually listen.

I can ignore my racing heart if he doesn’t even show the slightest bit of interest.

Maker, Creators, Lady and the Stone all take me if he does.


	3. Chapter 3

After my trip to the tavern, I admit I do just a little bit of digging, more than I usually care to do. My temporary companion from last night left quite suddenly, enough to leave me curious as to what his story was. He was pretty, and I find him interesting. If entirely because that’s definitely the first time someone’s ever run out on me.

After a good night’s rest, I really feel just fine, but I have a little ache in my shoulders, a very mild headache, but there’s very little I can’t accomplish with my mouth. I’m good at lying, natural born one might say, and so far only Leliana has figured that out. I’m no fool, she’s definitely passed the truth to Cullen and Josephine, they’re high up the chain and may need to know the truth. That’s fine. 

I made subtle inquiries last night, enough to find out my mystery acquaintance is the Inquisition’s main healer. With that in mind, I shuffle across the yard, heading right where I imagine he must currently be. There’s a small line, I’m actually surprised. I guess I recall hearing some have been getting sick, and I shrug a bit at the idea I could join them. I’m not worried, I’ve never actually been sick. In fact I’ve rarely ever had cause to see a healer in the first place, save in my first few months of my ‘adventuring’ days, I’ll call them. Even then it was mostly blisters and sore muscles, nothing serious. 

Falcon walks by, not noticing me immediately, though he does after he’s past, turning around and coming back. He laughs a bit, gesturing to the line. 

“Don’t tell me you already need a healer, you’ve barely tapped your vacation.” He says. 

I could of course be honest and say that really I’m alright, and I’m just being a touch nosy, that really I’m just here for another chance to see someone I’d just (barely) met the night before. I opt not to. If I’m being honest, Falcon is fairly attractive, and he’s pretty good at his job, but outside that? I find him to be mildly annoying and not terribly bright. He’s never once caught any lie I’ve ever told him, and I couldn’t keep track on all my fingers and all of my toes just how many I’ve told him. 

“You caught me. Think it was the food.” I shrug. 

He nods sympathetically, sighing in thought. “I hear that. Did my stomach no favors either, but I’m just fine.” 

It’s said with the weirdest sense of pride I’ve heard from someone bragging over absolutely nothing of importance. He was like that, but I’d read his file, the only reason he really ended up here was simply because his clan suggested he’d be useful, that they wanted to demonstrate a willingness to cooperate at times, and so he came. Been here since just after the Conclave I’d heard, and really? I don’t think most even know who he is. He claps a hand on my shoulder, nodding again. 

“Well, I’m off to the bath. Enjoy your...healing, I guess? Feel better.” He says in a way that suggests he’s not terribly concerned with what I’m doing anyway, but rather making small talk. Once he leaves, I notice Cullen’s up from the yard, looks like he’s on his way to see Leliana, and I’d imagine he’s either there for the reports she no doubt has prepared for him, or he really does believe he can talk the spymaster out of me. I’m pretty sure he can’t, but I guess being a soldier would certainly be different too. Can’t say I’m pleased with the idea, I prefer my work here, however minimal it might be, I know I have some impact at least. As a soldier? Who knows, probably end up dead within a weak. I’ve seen them, no sense of working together no matter how he might bark at them. 

Not a one seems to understand that flanking is always a better option than to rush in and try to fight more than they’re prepared to handle. Whatever. That’s the big difference. In a pinch, a scout can  _ be _ a solo act and get away with it, a soldier that tries is one that will either end up dead, or getting his mates killed. I think that’s probably why he’s always training. Get them to  _ try _ to work as a team, and maybe  _ just maybe _ , he doesn’t have to figure out how to write a letter home. 

I’ve been here a while, I think Leliana’s lost maybe two the whole time. One was stupidity, the other? Unfortunate accident that wasn’t avoidable to my knowledge. Mentioned one of our number had betrayed her, killed one of her agents. I didn’t know him, never worked with him before, but it’s my understanding he was spared, and now finds himself with the worse jobs now. 

Looking back, the line has moved some. Normally, I’d hate this, have already left the line to go about my day, but this time, I feel it’s worth it to wait however long I must to satisfy my curiosity. I want to at least see him again, though I’m not sure if it’s simply because I want to know, or if my job has finally rubbed off on me and now I simply  _ need _ to know. 

Part of me wants to know his story. Didn’t look like much of a hard drinker, yet that was what he ordered. I realize his job must be hard, but that couldn’t have been all. Plus, how quickly he’d come over? I’m smart enough to realize it wasn’t me he was looking for. A shame, he seemed like he’d be fine company if he’d calm himself a little. And if he actually came to see me on purpose. 

I don’t have anyone here I’d consider a real friend. No one I could say I know very well on a personal level. The only people I know enough to make conversation with are those I work with in the field. Harding is a good sort, and I daresay we’d get on fine, but we’re rarely assigned together, and the word is a certain dwarf has almost thoroughly caught her attention. I’m not much for dwarves. Too rugged for my taste. Humans are fine, but as if to remind me of my heritage one way or another, elves usually get my notice. 

Not the little annoying one that hangs in the Maiden, I don’t know her story, but the Herald must have found value in her, enough to tolerate her incessant need to get under everyone’s skin. I think she can sense that certain people won’t take it well. I’ve never been bothered, but I saw Quill had bright pink skin as he stalked through the yard this morning, and I’m glad I bathed last night. Must have put something in it and he was just the unlucky fool that fell for it. 

The line moves a little more, and I find it strange how I’m still waiting. Normally I’m sure I’d have given up, very few people warranted that kind of effort when I’ve got other things I could be doing, but it’s too early to drink, I’m still fairly clean, at least, I can still smell the soap on me, so it’s not as though I need another just yet. I’m really not hungry right now, and I’m off duty. Means I have nothing better to do, at least. 

I can hear a few people in front of me making conversation on what ailed them, and how it was a pain because it delayed some Very Important Business. Because of course they think they really run this place. I can’t say I contribute a lot myself, but it’s a team effort. We scout ahead, send word of danger and possible problems, if it’s too big for us to handle? The bucket brigade sweeps in and stabs everything dead. I think we can all agree that Josephine’s noble buddies are simply intolerable. The only thing they contribute is cash, occasional resources and complaints about absolutely everything. 

That right there feels like a big part of why I left home. Listening to people bicker, especially when most of those people are less powerful and they simply need to let us know in a subtle way that humans will always be superior in some way. Here? It’s not quite that way, everyone mostly works together,  _ mostly _ . 

I look back and the line is moving again, I’m almost to the front, but I don’t mind really. No doubt these folks have legitimate complaints beyond what I’ve got. I see that tavern elf skip across the yard, and for a moment, it has me wary, but then? It has me thinking I might need to change my approach here a bit. I’m pretty sure I didn’t imagine that one checking me out over his drink, I wonder if I can pull it off? 

The line shrinks until I’m just about next in line, and I slowly undo just a few more buttons, enough to make it look like perhaps I’d just been extra comfortable in my sleep and hadn’t lent it much thought. I can hear someone a short distance away making some commentary with what appears to be a Sister. Scandalous. No doubt the Maker doesn’t want his little pets having too much fun, I’m curious if that’s considered one of his infamous sins. 

Then again, there’s few among or number that are quite aware Sister Leliana as she used to be had quite the interesting history with a certain Grey Warden. No one really knew what became of that however, most didn’t feel the need to pry into her personal business. Then again, despite everything, my folks still held to the Creators and I catch myself muttering those same sentiments on occasion, though I’ve never had much use for religions of any kind. An arrow still hurts like hell whether Andruil guides it or not, I think. No need to bring anything into it really. 

Most of my experience with healers has been entirely in the field. A few agents have incredibly limited healing abilities, enough to mend a scrape or a small wound, and others are trained well enough in herbalism to patch up some of the bigger injuries. Me? I’ve got maybe two little bits of largely impractical magic, rarely ever used, no good when stealth is the objective. I’m not even considered an apostate, more like a weird fluke. I’m happy enough with my bow. 

I’m next, it seems. I stare at the door, realizing I’m not exactly sure what to do once I get inside. I don’t know if I’m meant to sit or not. All I know is I’ve got two humans staring at me like they’re trying to pinpoint what’s wrong with me before I notice him. His back is to me, looks like he’s cleaning up. 

Kinda makes me curious if my quarters could use a cleaning, but then again I’m so rarely here, I hardly think it needs much more than a quick scrub. He turns around finally, and I’m a little bit pleased I didn’t drink enough to get the details wrong. He’s exactly as I remember him, definitely not bad. He seems very surprised to see me, if nothing else. It sorts of kicks in and suddenly I find myself at the very least  _ pretending  _ like I know what I’m supposed to do. I take a seat, trying to look as uncomfortable as I can, kneading my shoulder in emphasis. 

“I have no idea how I must have slept. My head hurts and my shoulders ache…” I sigh. 

Granted this isn’t a total lie, it’s hardly enough to warrant real attention. Still, I’m already here, so I’m not about to jump up and run out insisting I don’t need anything and I’d wandered in here by accident, or actually admitting I just wanted to see him again. Properly this time, in the light and everything. I hope it’s not a real bother, at least. I know how much it sucks when someone tosses unexpected work your way, especially if it’s not truly called for. That in mind, I offer him a slight smile, if for no other reason than I do feel a bit bad about the trouble.

Recalling that I’d never actually introduced myself, I hastily do that now. “I’m Piper, by the way.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Elias**

My heart races in my chest when I turn around to see the stranger from last night, standing in the infirmary, slowly walking to the nearest cot and sitting down. Still looking incredible, especially now, eyes half lidded, shirt hanging open, hair slightly mussed, like he just rolled out of bed and into the hut. He hunches over, elbow resting on his knee, as he kneads his shoulder in discomfort and I feel my ears and cheeks redden. I’m a mix of feelings upon seeing him. I wasn’t really expecting to see him.

When I went back to the tavern last night, he was already gone. I thought at first maybe he left with one of the bar maids or something, until Sera skipped up to me and threw her arms around me. I don’t know why she likes me, but I imagine it has something to do with us both being of humble background, and not a bit like those ‘elfy’ elves, as she likes to call them. The ones like Solas, and the Dalish, that are more concerned with the ancient ways than the modern ones.

Even though I’m not from any city, and I’m all ‘magicky’, still we have more in common betwixt the two of us than others. So she sidled up to me and said something like, “He’s gone, you know. Left out a minute ago. Saw you sittin’ over there, talkin’ to him.” I wasn’t asking about him, but she proceeded to tell me about how one of the barmaids had a crush on him and let him have his drinks for free. I listened to her prattle while I ate my supper and stewed in silence over my embarrassing behavior.

Thought maybe he was just having a few drinks before he left out on another mission, but no, he’s here, gaze up at me, looking slightly disgruntled over his aching shoulder. “I have no idea how I must’ve slept,” he tells me. His voice is…I don’t know, hard to judge by his accent where he’s from. It’s too proper. Free Marches maybe, but I can’t be sure. His voice is like soft velvet, the words rolling right off his tongue with ease. “My head hurts and my shoulders ache,” he sighs.

I stifle a groan and that sultry tone he has without even meaning to.

At least I’m more presentable today than I was last night. I have that working in my favor. I’m clean, wearing fresh clothes, though my smock is a touch too big for me, and I have to roll the sleeves up to my elbows just to be able to work. But my hair is neatly brushed, swept back in a low ponytail at the nape of my neck. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, as they say. Though I probably smell like soap and cleaning solution, which is hardly complimentary, but at least I don’t stink.

I should have Sevan or Georgiana take a look at him. Touching that exposed shoulder proves to be too much of a temptation though, and rather instinctively I move toward him and reach out to touch. It’s almost ingrained in me now to touch perfect strangers like this, after months of doing so as a healer, so it’s not the act of touching a stranger that sets my pulse racing, but the act of touching this one. I’m not thinking about aches and pains, or ointments. But rather it’s another thought.

The very unprofessional sort.

“Sev, Georgie, if the two of you wouldn’t mind seeing to the Sisters, I’ll see to this one,” I say, dismissing them, and both mages nod their heads and carry out the task. On the other side of the room, they sit the two sisters down that have caught cold and do about tending them. Both have given me curious glances, perhaps wondering why I’m suddenly so flustered, but I’m no longer paying attention to them. I turn my gaze back to the stranger before me.

“I’m Piper, by the way,” he smirks at me, and I remember we were never introduced properly. I ran out before I even caught his name.

“Elias,” I say, carefully peeling back the collar of his tunic to feel the muscle of his aching shoulder, searching out the affected area to pinpoint the cause. Piper–probably a nickname, or some sort of code name; Leliana likes to give those to her spies to keep their real identities a secret. He inclines his neck and sweeps his hair over one shoulder in such a way that I might do my work much easier and I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth to stifle another moan at the almost sensual act.

“Any pain in your neck, or back?” I ask.

Unfortunately, I don’t think my voice is as steady as I’d hoped it to be.

He shrugs a little. “Not much. Mostly the shoulder. As I said, I think I just slept wrong. But I just wanted to be sure before I return to my duties. I hate to be a bother to you, serrah.”

“It’s no bother,” I say, my voice just barely even, letting my hand wander over the smooth skin, the hardened muscle, trying to stay professional here, but fearing I might not be doing very well at that. Out of the corner of my eye I see Piper licking his bottom lip, which doesn’t make it any easier. I shoot a side-glance at my apprentices. They’re occupied with the other patients still. None of them paying any attention to us. Going over symptoms and treating the cause, as expected.

I shift my attention back to Piper, tilting his head a little to the other side to check his left shoulder. “Have any problems turning your head?” I ask.

“No,” he answers, and I furrow my brow. It may be just as he said, that he slept wrong. May be that he had a little too much to drink last night, as to the cause for the headache and the stiffness, but I can’t be sure. I have him roll his neck one more time, and that’s when I figure it out. He’s lying. Well, maybe not lying, maybe there’s a bit of an issue, but not as much as he made it out to be. Which means he’s faking an injury for some reason. I almost want to run to Leliana immediately.

You can lie to many a fool, but you can’t lie to a healer. But I stay put, and pretend to assess his injury some more, but at this point I think it’s just to have the excuse to touch him still. “When are you due back in the field?” I ask, curious, trying to sound like I’m just making conversation, sliding my fingers through his hair to feel his scalp for any tender, painful areas, any points where there may be a bit of tension, but I suspect there are none. His eyes flutter closed at the touch.

“In a few days,” he sighs. “Just got back from Ferelden. Sticky situation. Had to fight my way through a bandits’ hideout. I was alone and outnumbered, with nothing but my bow and my wits. Must’ve injured myself and not realized it.”

“Hmm, perhaps,” I mumble. Gods! His hair is so soft! And he smells so good!

_Now now, Elias, stay focused. He said he’d just got back, and would be at Haven for a few more days._

I wonder why he would have the worry of being delayed if he’s not even due back in the field for a few more days. Ample enough time to recover from a crick in the neck. Did Leliana send him to spy on me? Whatever for? I know she had her concerns about what happened in the Fallow Mire, but I can’t think of any reason she would have one of her agents come sniffing around my infirmary. I was sure to be thorough in my report, to the best of my ability, and I didn’t leave out any necessary details.

Fine, so I left out the part about the exploding fish. Big deal.

Why would Piper be coming to see me?

Unless…

I look down and see that Piper’s eyes have opened and he’s staring at me. Lost in thought, I stopped checking him over, and have just been carding my fingers through his hair, and I cough nervously, pulling away. “Doesn’t seem to be anything too serious,” I say. “Nothing a few days of rest won’t cure. I advise not lifting anything heavy in the meantime. Here, take this.” I reach over his shoulder for a vial on the shelf behind him. “Elfroot. For the headache.”

“Thank you,” he says, accepting the bottle and our fingers lightly brush for an instant, one that sends shivers through me. I hope he doesn’t notice. “You ran out on me last night,” he mentions, lifting a brow.

“What? Oh! Yes, terribly sorry about that. That was…”

He smirks a little. “You mistook me for someone else at first, if I recall. Who might that be?”

“A friend of mine,” I say, brushing an imaginary strand of hair behind my ear. “We used to sit at that table and talk about work. Complain mostly,” I add with a smile. “He left a few months ago, haven’t seen him since.”

“Oh,” Piper nods. “You miss him then?”

“Sometimes, yes. Not too many others around here to have a drink with, chat with. Not anyone I particularly like, anyway.”

“Well, if you’d like someone to have a drink with and complain to, I wouldn’t mind,” Piper offers. “On occasion, I like to have that sort of company as well. Unless, does a wine bottle count as heavy lifting?”

“No, I don’t imagine a drink or two would hurt.”

“So you’ll join me then? That is, if you’re not busy later?”

I blush a little, clenching the fabric of my smock. “Uhm,” My ears twitch in nervousness. Gods damn it! I shouldn’t even be considering it. I should tell him I’ll be busy tonight, but with what? What is there to do in this village aside from carrying on at the tavern? Sit in the Chantry and pray? _As if._ “I-uh…That’s sounds nice.” Gods! What am I doing?! Did I just say yes? Have I still not learned my lesson after what happened the _last_ time I got tipsy and found myself around a handsome man?

Evidently not.

Piper smiles. “Alright, I’ll see you tonight then? Same time, same place?”

“Sure.”

“Might bring a few friends, if I can convince them. I’ll introduce you.”

“That sounds good. I like making new friends. Better that than enemies.”

He chuckles a little at my remark. Oh and his laugh too. It’s musical.

“You never know which is which, in my line of work,” he says. “But I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?”

He stands up, stretching a little, bottle of elfroot in hand, suddenly not in quite so much pain as before. Perhaps my massaging his shoulders helped the pain a bit. Or perhaps he was faking entirely, but I could care less. I’m in a bit of a daze as he shoots me one last smile, paired with a wink, before leaving the infirmary. I sigh a little wistfully when he’s gone. Sev tries repeatedly to get my attention for a moment, waving a hand in front of my face, then snapping his fingers. “Hmn?”

“Where’ve you been, sir? You’ve been staring at nothing for over a minute now.”

Beside Sevan, Georgiana is giggling. I notice the sisters have gone and it’s only the three of us again.

“Someone has fallen in love, me thinks,” she giggles, and Sevan scrunches his face a little, as if the idea were absurd.

“You can’t fall in love after only just meeting someone, Georgie,” he says.

“And what would you know about love?” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“More than you, probably,” he scoffs.

I sigh and roll my eyes at both.

Sev is right, I don’t think you can fall in love at first sight, but then again, what do I even know about love?

All I know is that this somewhat-not-a-stranger is very, _very_ handsome.

“Is it just me, or is it a bit hot in here?” I ask, fanning myself.

It’s the middle of winter and the door is wide open.

Georgiana lets out a bark of a laugh.

Obviously it’s just me then.


	5. Chapter 5

I have a brief meeting to attend for a short time, and I can’t completely focus on anything serious today. Even though I’m still on vacation I do appreciate know where I’m supposed to go next. I’m too busy thinking about how I should wear my hair, or what I should wear for that matter. Can’t very well wear my uniform, I could, but I don’t even want to see it right now. Might accidentally tempt someone into putting me to work if I have it. 

Then again, I don’t have much for casual clothes. Josephine hands me a letter, I’d almost forgotten her presence too. Not unusual, she seems to be very good friends with Leliana, they’re often together, even at work. I need only glance at the writing to know exactly who sent it. That too is something I don’t want to deal with right now either. So, instead, I tuck it away in my bag, intent on dropping it in the nearest bin until I realize that someone else might just read it. 

I can about imagine exactly what it has to say, and I’m so busy thinking about it, I almost miss Leliana’s gentle concern over it.

“Are you going to write back this time?” She asks. 

I shake my head immediately. “No. I’m not interested in what they have to say.”

“You really should, I’m still trying to figure out why you’d leave that behind in the first place.” She says. 

“It was fine.” I admit. “I don’t like being bored. That’s why I left. I’m not made for a life like that.” 

“”I think you’re better suited to it than you think.” She disagrees. “I’m aware you’re not very close to the others, but it wouldn’t hurt to learn to trust  _ someone.  _ You know someone in our field can’t throw ourselves completely into it, I’d be very different without Josie to depend on, make a friend.”

I know she only lectures because she cares, but it doesn’t make it any less irritating to hear. Besides, I’ve at the very least made an acquaintance, that’s a start, or at least I think it is. If she had to spend as much time as I do with people like Falcon? She’d be just the same, I’m sure. It’s mostly just excuses. There’s no particular reason I haven’t bothered, save that I realize I don’t have a ton in common with most of the people here. 

It has me thinking again. I picked up something half decent to wear when I was off in the Hinterlands last, I could wear that. I recall wearing it on an entirely different mission, one of the few that allowed me a chance to relax and just listen. Didn’t find much of use that time, but it wasn’t a bad night at least. As soon as I’m free to leave, I head off to grab a bite. There’s a merchant in from Val Royeaux with fresh food, so I opt to just buy something instead. Nice seasonal fruit and a few other things. Pocketing the food, I head back to my room for a bit, rigging up some basic set up on the fire, I’m not terrible at cooking, at least. That much I’m confident in. While I wait, I busy myself eating the fruit and cutting slices of bread. Fresh goat milk today too, a rarity in Haven. I don’t know what connections the woman has, only that I’m grateful she has them. 

I have a dish I found at an abandoned campsite, a few small odds and ends, a very mismatched set up that at least does its job in holding the stew I managed to make fairly well. It’s bland, enough to briefly make me miss home, but it passes quickly enough. 

Maybe it’s just been a while since I’ve had any sort of decent company, but I find I can’t quite put the pending meeting out of my mind. He seemed to favor a ponytail, a thought that has me wondering if I should put my hair up. I decide against it. Never learned to get it just right, and I try not to look too shabby most of the time. If I’ve read things correctly, I must be doing fine. 

I shake myself out of my thoughts long enough to finish my meal, pondering the merits of getting a bath while there still relatively free. Far cry better than the cold lakes I usually find while I’m out, and much better than passing days without. I don’t want to smell like a druffalo if I can help it either. There’s still at least a few hours until nightfall, and it’s such a strange thing. Usually I find I have little time to consider what to do, now that I’ve got the free time, I can’t think of much to do. 

Browsing the book shelf, I give up on that too. I’m not in the mood to read, and I don’t know that I could sleep right now. Tossing my bag on the bed, I put my dishes aside to wash later, grabbing up fresh clothes and my supplies, I trudge across the yard, grimacing when I hear the clanking behind me. I don’t need to look to know exactly who it is. 

“Varadis.” He says, almost like a command. 

“Piper, if you please, Commander.” I tell him. 

“Of course.” He says. “I’m aware we just parted ways not long ago, but there’s been a new development.” 

Rather than apprise me himself, he hands me a parchment scroll and I take it, looking it over. Of course it would be that. I had hopes we’d be heading somewhere more interesting, not precisely right back where I just was. Still a few days out, looks like we’re still waiting on Orlesians. The bonus is that it looks like I’ve just been given a few more days, at least. The downside? Pretty much everything else. I see they extended the same invitation to Starling. I don’t mind her so much, usually when we’re on watch together, we keep busy with idle chatter. She has a way of making me miss places I’ve never been. I don’t bother with the details of my own life, but I know one thing. Falcon thinks she’s great, and she likes him too, but not once have they ever discussed it with each other. In fact I’m not even sure he’s aware she likes him. 

I suppose it’s not a bad assignment, sounds like it’ll be plenty uneventful. I hand it back to him and he busies himself tearing it into small scraps. At least he knows to do that much. Sensitive information like that could prove disastrous in the wrong hands, but I suppose it might be a common thing among Templars too? 

He excuses himself and I return to my quest to get in a bath before the cool air makes the idea no longer worth it. Should just about be changed out for fresh, hot water, and that sounds perfect about now. 

Behind a short, wooden divider, I hear idle conversation, something about an odd encounter on the edge of the village, but I tune it out. Nothing important, and not interesting besides. I wash up quickly, but stay in a while more. Feels good, not quite as cool as it usually is. 

After a time, I abandon the warmth, leaning against the wall to dress, raking my hand through my hair a few times, enough to get it to lay just a certain way. When I head back to my room to put my things away, I notice it’s finally starting to get dark. I don’t even consider how unusual it is to look forward to seeing someone like this, but after this morning, I can hardly deny Elias is only managing to make me more curious. It could be a side effect of my job, but I want to know more about him. 

Sneaking a peek at my reflection on the window, as best I can, I decide to brush my hair back behind my ears, still close enough to what I like, but I think it adds a certain something to the overall look I’ve got going. It’s just a basic tunic, laces up the front, but I don’t bother tying it, looks better left undone, at least in my mind. The trousers are pretty basic too, black, but I have to admit these fit better than my work clothes do. 

Tired of doing nothing of merit, I pocket my coin pouch, just in case, and head across the yard to the tavern. People are just starting to stop for the night, so it’s mostly open. I decide to sit at the back table, figuring that’s probably where he’ll think to look first. There’s a quiet man in here today, and he says very little beyond asking what I want and bringing it back. I’m interested to know if they just take shifts now or if it’s really so busy as to warrant at least three helpers. It’s dead enough still for Flissa to be able to handle it by herself, but I’d gather maybe she just appreciates having some extra hands. 

Sera’s suspiciously absent at the moment, and I wonder if she’s up to something. I mentally try and figure out who she might be targeting today and what the prank of choice must be. As long as it’s not me? I don’t really care one way or the other. 

A few other people finally start coming in, but no one I really recognize. There’s a few I e struck up very brief conversations with, but nothing memorable, really. I flag the man down again, and request another bottle and another cup. I have no idea how long I’ll be around tonight, or how much Elias normally drinks, but I feel like this looks better prepared. Besides, if I get too much, it isn’t like I can’t take it back for later. Alternatively, on the off chance I get a hangover, I suppose I now know where to go to have that taken care of at least. 

I’ve heard the Herald has found plenty of people to join the cause, and yet for all of those rumors, the only one I’ve seen here so far is Sera. I get that he’s busy and probably takes them with, but I guess I figured I’d have seen at least a few other new faces. Not so much a complaint as an observation. Aside from the one, I think I’ve only seen Elias and some bald elf, and that’s about it. Mostly humans. One dwarf other than the Herald I think. 

They say the Inquisition is diverse, but unless they count humans multiple times based on where they’re from? I don’t see much evidence for that statement. I hear the door again, and it pulls me from my thoughts. Can really tell for sure when several others walk in on either side, but I think I see him at least. I realize I look prepared, but I don’t want it to seem like I’ve already been here a while just waiting like I have nothing better to do, but I’m just coming up blank on what to say about it. ‘I’ve only just got here a bit ago’ always feels like a lie to me, and usually, whenever someone says it, it’s almost always a lie anyway. 

I figure I’ll start with the basics, share my good news, that I’ve gotten a few more days on account of slow human nobles, but I realize I can’t say too much about the mission itself. Elias is Inquisition too, but it’s a safety thing. We’re not supposed to discuss it freely, much as I’m itching to share that too. I’ve never really had an urge to talk about what I do, but this one? I think I might actually be one of very few who know exactly what the Herald is planning to do next. Still don’t know the guy, but the detail alone seems pretty interesting. 


	6. Chapter 6

_**Elias** _

“Why are you making me do this?” Lenna whines, and I roll my eyes. “You know I hate the tavern.”

I continue shuffling through the small trunk at the foot of my bed, while Lenna flops back on it with a huff. Lenna and I have become quite close these last few months. She’s one of the few people here I can stand, not because she’s another elf, but mostly because she’s not a cleric or a Circle mage. She might’ve been raised up to believe all that Chantry shite, but she never waves it in my face. And being Haven’s seamstress, she’s always around to make conversation with.

She’s from Haven, actually. Lived here in the village ever since she can remember. Her mother used to sweep the Chantry and keep it clean for the visiting Grand Clerics on pilgrimage from the city’s cathedrals. She stayed around even after her mother died to work for the Chantry herself, but since the Conclave, she’s made better use of her time making clothes for the soldiers, fixing patchwork and mending tears. The Inquisition pays better than the Chantry ever did, she tells me.

Her brown hair fans out over the quilt blanket spread across my cot before she rolls onto her side as I hold up another tunic. I’ve amassed a nice little collection of personal belongings, as long as I’ve been here now. It’s not much, and nothing like the mountains of clothes and jewels noble women seem like they can’t live without, but at least I have more than one full set of clothes, and they’re not too shabby if I do say so myself. I dragged Lenna in here to get her opinion on what I should wear tonight.

And I may or may not have twisted her arm about coming with me.

“He said he _might_ be bringing friends along, and I might not know these people, and it might be awkward,” I tell her, to answer her initial question. She rolls her eyes like she doesn’t believe me. “It’s just…if I go alone, and it ends up being just the two of us, he might think I’m trying to be romantic or something. You know, like they do in those novels. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea, and make him think I’m trying to seduce him or something. What do you think of this one?”

I hold up a lustrous cotton tunic against my chest, paired with a light viridian green vest, both of which I purchased from Seggrit last week, but haven’t worn yet, so they’re relatively new still. Lenna snorts at the clothes. “You’ll look like a Satinalia decoration,” she chuckles and I scowl at the remark. I toss the vest back into the trunk and just hold up the shirt, lifting a brow. “Hmm, I don’t know, it doesn’t really bring out your eyes much. How about that black one, with the vest.”

I toss the tunic in the trunk next and fish out the black samite shirt with the tiny brass buttons, putting it on. Once buttoned and properly tucked in my waistband, I put on the green vest and give Lenna a little twirl.

“How about now?”

“Much better.”

She folds her arms and stares at my back as I step over to the tiny shard of broken glass I found a week ago that I’ve been using as a mirror. Broke off a much larger one, I assume when the Temple exploded it shattered into so many pieces, and I snagged one of those shards before they were tossed when the empty cabin was finally refurbished.

“What are you getting all dressed up for, anyway?” she asks me as I check over my appearance and fix my hair. “I thought you said you were done with men, after what happened with the Lieutenant.”

I bristle a little at Wickam’s mention. “I’m not planning on sleeping with him,” I deny. _At least, I don’t think_. “What’s wrong with simply wanting to look my best?”

“You don’t care any other night at the tavern,” she shrugs, and I gasp.

“Are you implying I look like a slob?” I huff at her, and she giggles.

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying any other night, you wouldn’t care what people think. What’s so special about this one, eh?”

I sigh a little, just thinking about it. That thick dark hair, those high cheekbones, those incredible eyes and that smirking mouth. “Just wait ‘til you meet him,” I say, then debate on whether or not I should leave my collar buttoned all the way up. Biting my lip a little, I undo a couple of the top buttons and examine myself in the glass. “Hmm, just not as sexy as when _he_ does it,” I mumble. “Just looks stupid.” I button my collar back up and fuss with my hair. “Up or down, do you think?”

“Up,” she says, then rises from the bed. “Here, let me.” She takes my hair and brushes it back with her fingers, then twirls it into a bun, tying it low. A few strands refuse to stay and fall in my face. I try to brush them away, but she says, “No, leave them. They add to the charm.” I shoot her a glance in the mirror and see that she’s smiling. She must approve then. “Right then, let me get a look at you.” I turn around and she backs away, to get a better look at me, rubbing her chin in thought.

“Do you think I’m being foolish?” I ask. “And be honest.”

“Hmm,” she hums, examining my appearance. “I’d say you shouldn’t worry so much.” She steps closer again, and unbuttons the collar I’d only just fixed properly. Two buttons undone, and she says, “There. That’s better.” I scrunch my face up, unable to see the appeal, but I guess that’s what I have her for.

We step out of the cabin and into the crisp evening air, sidestepping to avoid a group of soldiers walking the opposite direction. A couple of them wave hello, and I imagine they were my patients at some point, for them to see my face and recognize me. It still throws me for a loop sometimes, but I try to pay it little mind at the moment, and continue down the lane, Lenna at my side and matching in step as we head down to the tavern. It’s already bustling with activity as the sun is setting.

We wait our turn to enter behind a crowd of people then slip inside to survey the scene. “There he is,” I hiss as I nudge Lenna’s arm. When she catches sight of him, she gasps.

“You were right,” she says. “He’s a handsome one. Maker’s breath, he’s easily the most handsome fellow I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“And what am I, chopped liver?” I say, pretending to be hurt. She scoffs at me.

“You’re practically one of the girls,” she says. “You don’t count.” I pinch my lips at that. It’s true though. “Andraste’s flaming pyre, but he’s beautiful though,” she sighs dreamily.

“I feel like this is a trick,” I grumble. “Some god somewhere is pointing and laughing.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because every time I see him, I swear he’s more handsome than the last time I saw him.”

Both Lenna and I let out a wistful sigh.

Indeed, Piper looks edible sitting at the table in the corner, drink in hand, staring into the flames of the hearth, tunic undone, hair swept back behind his perfect ears. I’m one hundred percent certain that whatever gods do exist have done it to me on purpose, just for a good laugh, waiting until the precise moment in time that I’ve sworn off all men to suddenly present me with the perfect one, just to tempt me. Before I lose my nerve, I tug on Lenna’s arm, and we approach the table.

Maybe I’ll get lucky, the Gods will cut me a break for all the hard work I’ve been doing lately, and Piper will become infatuated with Lenna.

I try to force a smile as I approach the table, give a little wave and gesture to Lenna beside me. “This is Lenna,” I introduce. “Lenna, meet Piper.”

He furrows his brow, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I think I’ve seen you before,” he tells her. “You’re one of the workers?”

“I am, yes,” she says, brushing her hair behind her ear as if suddenly shy. We sit down, me right across from Piper, and Lenna beside him. I swear I see a blush on that freckled nose of hers. There are several others being served at the moment, and we’ll have to wait our turn for a few more cups to be set on the table–workers and underlings are always served lastly when there’s a rush–so Lenna makes conversation while we wait with, “So, what’s a handsome fella like you doing for the Inquisition?”

“I work for Leliana actually,” he says, keeping his eyes on mine, not so much as sparing her a glance. Gods damn it. I think he likes me. And if not, still, I don’t think he likes Lenna much. Doesn’t pay her too much attention, as if he’s hardly bothered by her presence. Instead, he keeps his gaze locked with mine, the barest hint of a smile on his curvy lips, and I feel my face getting hot again. Lenna doesn’t seem to notice though, and her eyes widen at his statement.

“Oh, that must exciting!” she says.

“Sometimes, yes,” he nods, eyes still on mine and I bite my lip a little, glancing away. “And yourself?” I hear him ask. “What is it you do for the Inquisition?”

“I’m the seamstress,” she answers proudly, just as one of the servers comes our way with two cups, one for me and one for Lenna. Piper kindly pours us both a drink from the bottle on the table. I raise my cup to my lips and catch a whiff of the drink before I taste it. Something strong, but surprisingly smooth. Better than whiskey. I didn’t know Flissa had anything in stock besides whiskey and ale, and I should like to learn the name of this so I can order it again. Lenna, however, winces at the taste.

I sip my drink slowly, with no intention of getting sloshed tonight, and doing something foolish, and search for something to talk about. Piper does it for me.

“Got good news today,” he says, and I look up.

“Oh?” I say, my ears perking in interest. “What’s that.”

He smiles. “I’ll be here a bit longer than planned. An extra week before I have to set out again on the next mission.”

I exhale. “That _is_ good news. Everyone deserves a nice long break from work now and again.” Oh but that means he’ll be here to tempt me for longer than I initially guessed. Gods help me then.

“It’s not without a price though,” he adds, before sipping from his cup. “I’ll be gone a while on my next mission.”

“How long?” I ask, heart racing in my chest.

“For as long as it takes to see it done. A lot of travel involved. A lot of…politics. Can’t say for certain how long I’ll be, so I hope to make the most of my time while I’m here.”

“I imagine you would…”

The silence stretches on for a moment as we share a look. I’m about to press on, maybe divert the subject a little, away from _how_ he’d like to spend is time off, and back to what he actually does for Leliana, when suddenly the tavern door bursts open. I glance up, but quickly look away again when I see a flash of blonde hair, paired with a tattered red silk shirt and plaidweave trousers. “Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no!” I wince. I hide my face, though knowing it will do no good.

“Whiskers!” I hear Sera shout, cackling and running up to our table. I grimace just a little when she wraps her arms around me, hugging me tight, then flops down on the seat next to me with a grin. I’m not the only one suddenly flustered by Sera’s presence though. Lenna pays her no mind, but across from me Piper is frowning, and rolling his eyes, muttering under his breath. “So what’s this, honorary elf table?” Sera chortles. “If it’s a club, ought to make a banner. Maybe pamphlets too, right?”

“What, just because there’s four elves at a table?” I grumble, and she snorts.

“Yeah, we’ll put up a sign, eh? Give it floppy nug ears and cover it in goose feathers maybe.”

“You’re absurd,” Lenna sighs.

“And you’re a shite bag. But a _cute_ one though.” Sera winks. It’s Lenna’s turn to be flustered, like she doesn’t know what to do with that information. “So,” Sera chirps. “Boring tonight, yeh? Want to play a drinking game?”

No, bad idea. Don’t want to end up drunk and stupid. “I’d rather not.”

Across me, Piper shrugs. “Could be fun. As long as no _pranks_ are involved.”

“No pranks,” Sera promises. “Swear it. Cross my heart and hope to get kicked by a nuggalope. Just drinking.”

“What game?” Lenna asks.

“How about…’Never Have I Ever’?” she suggests.

And it’s all down hill from there. But at least I’ll learn some things about Piper tonight, if he plays.

Maybe more than I intended on knowing.


	7. Chapter 7

I watched Elias come in, and it’s a mix of relief and mild interest, he looks somewhat different today, I think he might actually have dressed up too. Good to know it wasn’t just me in my little room trying to figure out what to wear. That’s when I notice he’s brought someone. A woman. I wonder for a moment if it’s more than friendship and I’ve made poor assumptions of the man. I watch for a bit and decide it’s nothing serious. He doesn’t treat her the way most treat someone they like in some deep way. 

They come over and Elias is quick to extend an introduction. Lenna, he says. I know I’ve seen her before, but only quick moments in passing, probably doesn’t even recall it. 

She’s staring, and beyond that, she’s very obvious about it. That’s about the time my very limited interest in her drops down to nothing and what bits of conversation we make becomes more an attempt to be polite rather than anything. She’s not interesting, but I don’t point that out. 

I can’t make heads or tails of why she seems interested in my work, but I don’t even think about it for long before my mind automatically flags further inquiry with a huge mental file etched with ‘ _ Lie _ ’ right on the cover. Basic stuff, those in Leliana’s employ work on a need to know basis, and very few people needed to know, so I’ve compiled a tidy list of things to say if someone should decide to ask. I start reviewing it in my head, trying to imagine the most viable options.

She doesn’t press too much for information beyond the initial question. My concern lapses, and I find myself more intently focused on my company. He’s done something different with his hair, changed up his clothes, and I notice. It’s my job to notice details, but I’m off duty, and he just looks fetching. 

He’s holding back for some reason. I wonder again if perhaps I’ve made some kind of error, I thought I might have caught some interest, but I can tell he’s trying to get a little distance. Perhaps he doesn’t want to give me the wrong idea. Well, I’ve been somebody’s morning regrets before, and I don’t mind that too much, I guess. Not my favorite thing, but it does sort of remind me that I don’t usually get permanency anywhere in my life. On the job, my house is mobile, the food is on the move, the baths come wherever there’s water, which is sometimes not at all, the people I work with are ever-changing, and damned if I can’t help but think I don’t mind if this man uses me. 

I’m in the middle of pondering some idle curiosities, what does he wear to bed, what it takes to make him laugh, his favorite color. I think emerald would suit him, but I can’t quite deny at least in my mind, red is a good color for him. I suppose with someone like him on my arm, I’d actually  _ like _ to go home. If only to see the look on everyone’s faces. Never cared for the idea of settling down with some docile Dalish woman, or worse, some noble woman with insufferable attitude and everything. Nothing for it, I just don’t feel anything one way or the other for the fairer sex, I suppose. 

I’m jolted almost violently from my wandering imagination by the sight of a certain blonde elf. I don’t have a problem with her really, I’m just not one for letting my guard down around her. I guess I don’t quite trust her, but we’ve barely interacted as it is, to me, it makes perfect sense. He seems friendly with her, and she insists no pranks tonight, so her company is only partly uncomfortable. I won’t lie, at least not to myself. Part of me had hoped no one would want to come and I could have a better chance of figuring him out. 

She wants to play a drinking game. Sounds like pretty standard stuff, nothing I haven’t found myself involved in a few times. I guess it has potential at least. I don’t know that I like her particular choice, invites far too much honesty for my taste, especially when alcohol is involved. I’m good at keeping my wits about me, and my lips sealed tight, but it’s always unnerving that something I shouldn’t let slip might be a very real possibility. 

I briefly consider suggesting something else, anything really. Unfortunately nothing jumps to mind readily, and I feel like I’m doomed to play this game after all. I brace myself when a barrage of possibilities assails my mind, each one worse than the last. Just when I’m debating pulling the ‘I’m suddenly not feeling very well’ card so I can excuse myself and avoid the situation altogether, when I feel a hand clap my shoulder firmly, hear the scraping of the legs of a chair on the stone and a familiar flash of silver comes into view. For once? I’m actually very happy to see him. 

“Look at you, got a whole bunch of friends and you haven’t bothered to introduce me yet? I’m hurt, Piper.” Falcon pouts. 

His eyes are immediately glued on Lenna. I suppose she’s pretty, I’m no judge for such things, but I can tell from that stupid look on his face that he’s quite taken with her. 

“Lenna, she’s a seamstress.” I tell him. “I’m sure you know Sera.” 

He glances at her for just a moment, nodding with an entirely absent ‘uh-huh.’ He could care less about her, it seems. He’ll care more when he wakes up with snails in his bed or something absurd like that. Falcon raises a hand, waiting patiently for someone to bring him a drink, kicking back in his chair. I’m distracted for a moment, and it almost feels like being back at work with him around. I vaguely wonder what Starling is up to, before I realize she’s probably already turned in for the night. 

Sera doesn’t seem put off by his presence, more like she doesn’t seem to care one way or another about him at all. Still, she reiterated that we’re supposed to be drinking and having fun, and he seems prepared to join in. 

“Why are you so excited about this?” I mouth to him silently. 

He points to Lenna with his eyes and replies. “Think about it, doing our job for us, i might learn something good.”

I gather he means something he can use as a point of conversation to pester her with later, but it’s still of very little interest to me until I think it over again and realize this means I may get some of that coveted information about Elias. I’ve barely learned anything about him other than him being quite attractive, that he has an absent friend, and he found the time to enjoy what he sees, if the way he keeps looking my way says anything. 

I’m certain there’s supposed to be some sensible order to this, but I can’t begin to figure it out before Falcon thumps the table with a click of his tongue. 

“Never have I ever been bitten by a nug.” He says, almost proudly. 

Honestly, I don’t even know if they bite or not. The only nugs I’ve seen up close was one of Leliana’s and a few in a cave. They seem to run when they see you though, so I’d guess they’re more frightened of people than interested in attacking. 

Lenna shrugged, thinking about it for a moment before she says “Never have I ever taken someone’s pants.” 

Sera frowns a bit, and takes a drink. There’s an interesting story there, but I don’t lend it much thought. Grimacing, I take a drink too. It’s unusual for me to be honest, but in my mind at least, it was a pretty funny story. One of the more memorable times from before I’d left home. 

I will eventually go back, they’d be lost without their only heir, but I’m in no rush. On a totally different note, it’s bizarre to imagine I’ve got anything in common with Sera. She looks at me like she’s just made the very same realization and isn’t quite sure what to think about that. 

I think it must be my turn. I can’t look anywhere where there isn’t eyes just watching. I have no idea what to say, honestly. I don’t know whether to make something up, to say something completely silly or just say something I do mean. 

“Never have I ever snuck off during a job.” I shrug. 

It’s true. Save for the standard breaks we might get, to eat, catch a nap or the basic things, I’m pretty well glued to my post. I know for a fact Falcon absolutely has snuck off on his watch. Just as I’m deciding not to call him on it, he takes a drink. Sera shrugs and drinks. 

“Bunch of slackers.” I say jokingly.

Falcon laughs at it at least, but I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. Of course now that it’s been said, I half expect Leliana to materialize out of nowhere and drag him away. I’m a tad bit disappointed when it doesn’t happen.

I’m also a little curious as to what Elias hasn’t done. I barely concern myself with the idea that I might have done it, and what he might think of me depending on the statement. Leliana’s words from before come to mind again, and it makes me sigh. Not just the new reminder that I should take the time to write home. I won’t. Even if I don’t, I’m sort of essential to them, I’m in no danger of being cut out of anything. Probably why I grew up a bit wilder than they’d like, but when you can have anything, it tends to get old. 

No, it’s that she wants me to be more open and honest with  _ someone _ . So far, if I had to say, I hadn’t met anyone I’d trust that much. Elias doesn’t strike me as being good at spying, doesn’t seem like he’s working for anyone who might want to know. Nodding to myself, I decide that so long as it’s nothing too sensitive, it might not hurt to at least make the effort to be honest with him. What does it hurt if our prime activity is bound to be drinking anyway? What are the odds he’d remember it clearly the next morning anyway? That’s what I tell myself, more comforting if I think he might not concern himself with recalling the little things. 

“Never have I ever lived with a clan” Sera says finally. 

She says that and I’m not surprised, pretty sure she’d have been thrown across the map to a different one. Too serious for me, and definitely too serious for her. I take a drink too. I don’t pay much attention to Lenna and I already know Falcon is from a clan to the south. He has to remind me of that often

“When I was back with my clan  _ this _ , my clan does  _ that _ .” Ooh. Very special, like most Dalish elves didn’t do that or this. 

It is true, however. My family is Dalish, but I’ve never lived a quiet clan life out in the woods somewhere. I’ve only ever known a cushy life most aren’t comfortable with elves having. Some bullshit thing about helping someone important who repaid the favor in coin, a title, land. The sort of things most Dalish don’t concern themselves with. Elias drinks too. Probably why he has no tattoos. 

Something about that has him looking at me strangely. I wonder if it has to do with us having some bits of circumstance in common? It’s maybe something I can ask about later at least. It won’t particularly make a difference in my mind, I’ve never been too concerned with people’s background or where they grew up, it only changes so much about them. I’m more interested in who he became despite all of those things. 

Then again, it’s my business to get in people’s heads. I’m just wondering what’s in his. I’m definitely interested to find out. 


	8. Chapter 8

When I hear Sera say ‘Never have I ever lived with a clan’, and I don’t see Piper take a drink, I blink in surprise. Never lived with a clan, eh? I thought surely he had. But that might explain the unique tattoos, at least. My late night conversations with Siva revealed that the tattoos, called vallaslin, each represent the elven gods, and each have their own design. Some are more or less obvious, but they all have meaning. The intricate designs sprawling across Piper’s chest however, I can’t place the meaning of.

Falcon is the only one to take a drink. “What clan were you a member of?” I ask him curiously, and he smirks.

He goes on a fifteen minute speech telling me all about the Dalish as if I’ve no fucking clue. Even though I know more about them than I would’ve liked to know. I just nod my head through out all of it, as if I care. Someone’s awfully proud of their Dalish roots, evidently. Not that I mind Falcon so much–another code name I’m sure–but we have next to nothing in common, and I don’t really find him attractive anyway. Besides, he seems interested in Lenna to the point it’s almost leering.

But it’s to Piper that my gaze wanders. For a moment, I want to ask him about his family, but think better of it. Asking my friend Siva what happened to his clan dragged up terrible memories, of his clan being killed in a darkspawn raid. I don’t want to think of something so awful happening to Piper. And if so, I don’t know if I could resist the urge to leap across the table, hold him in my arms and console him. Card my fingers through his hair and plant soft kisses on his ear.

I blink again when I realize the table has turned to me. Obviously it’s my turn to say something I’ve never done. “Uhm,” I scratch my head over what to say. Not that I’ve done that many things. I’m sure there are many things I’ve never done, but there are also many that I have. I don’t want to mention anything about my magic and risk making anyone uncomfortable. The only reason Sera doesn’t mind is because I don’t ever mention it, rarely ever use it, and ‘out of sight, out of mind.’

When I exclude everything I’ve done when visiting an Avvar hold, that narrows down the list some, but still I don’t really know what to say that won’t cause complete embarrassment. “Let’s see, uh… Never have I ever… cheated at cards,” I settle on.

With a snort, Falcon picks up his drink and drains the cup.

“You cheat at cards?” Piper chuckles.

“Only the once, and he cheated me first. Damned dwarf had an ace up his sleeve. Swear he did.”

“Heh, your own fault if you were dumb enough to play with Varric Tetras,” I say, earning me a glare. “But if you play against that egg head, Solas, it’s the only way to win. He’s a damned card shark, is what he is.” Sera giggles when I call Solas an egg head, and it even earns me a disbelieving chuckle from Piper and I’m caught for a moment by that laugh. Transfixed, they call it, and I’m caught staring by the Dalish at the table. It’s his turn, and he fills up our cups.

“Never have I ever… kissed a man,” Falcon says, and I cough.

“Yuck!” Sera exclaims loudly when across from her, Lenna takes a drink. Quickly I take one as well, hoping no one notices, but of course they do and Sera says, “Ha! Better take five more of those, Whiskers! And that’s just for the Jack-Boot! Not countin’ your others!”

Across from me, Piper lifts a single brow, but then, slowly raises his glass to knock it back and my eyes widen. When he sets down the cup he’s smirking, and Falcon gasps in surprise.

“You kissed a man?” he asks him and Piper shrugs.

“Not the most scandalous thing I’ve ever done,” he winks.

My heart is racing in my chest at this. If it isn’t all the evidence I need that he’s interested in me, I don’t know what could be. Though he’s right, admitting you’ve kissed another man is not the most scandalous thing to admit. Don’t know why it has to be so scandalous anyway. Humans think it is. Some of them think it’s just so terrible, and I find I greatly resent that fact. “Ugh,” Falcon scoffs. “Right, anyone else got any scandal they want to fess up to then?”

It’s Piper’s turn anyway, so he lifts his glass in a toast and, in keeping with the topic of discussion, says, “Never have I ever kissed a woman.”

I’m the only one that doesn’t take a drink. Simultaneously, Sera, Falcon and Lenna all knock back their drinks and brows go up. “Lenna!” I gasp. “You kissed a girl?”

“Once when I was fifteen,” she giggles. “Got curious.” Sera finds this bit of information quite curious as well and her eyes flick to Falcon across the table. His own narrow. Hmm, looks like he may have some competition, vying for Lenna tonight. Sera smirks. I sense a rivalry beginning between the two. But Lenna could care less. She’s shooting furtive glances at me before her eyes dart to Piper, and I know she’s plotting something. She grins. “Never have I ever… had sex with a man.”

 _Shit_.

“Oh a virtuous one are we?” Falcon asks, not put off by it, but rather seeming like he enjoys that fact.

“And right proud of it too,” she says, lifting her chin. “I’m not a whore. And I would rather wait for the right man to come along.”

Judging by the gleam in his eye, Falcon’s plotting ways to make that happen, I imagine.

“Don’t worry, sweeting,” Sera winks. “Wont be wanting one after a night with me.”

Lenna giggles a little, blushing. Enjoying the attention obviously.

Falcon rolls his eyes.

Meanwhile I’m slowly raising my glass to my lips and Piper’s brows go up.

Yes. I’ve slept with a man. Several. I hope he doesn’t think I’m a slut when he finds out how many. Not that there are too many men on that list, but for some, one is too many. On occasion, I’ve met men that prefer those with a bit of experience under their belt, but some I find prefer their virtue in tact. Don’t know why. From what I hear, the experience is supposed to be special and meaningful for a woman. But me, I didn’t find the first time to be any different than any other.

Maybe it’s because I was never with the right one.

My heart pounds in my chest when Piper tips back his own drink.

“Oh look at that,” Sera chirps. “Aren’t you two just perfect for each other then.”

Both Falcon and Lenna share a bit of laughter with her, but Piper glances at her curiously when she says it.

He opens his mouth to reply, but doesn’t get the chance.

Just then, the tavern door bursts open and the crowd erupts in cheer.

I turn my head to see a pair of dwarves coming in, followed by a large, steer horned Qunari. Varric and Cadash have returned from the Storm Coast, and apparently they brought a friend. My ears go back in nervousness at the sheer colossal size of the beast and my eyes widen. I’ve heard about them, but I’ve never seen kossith in the flesh and they’re every bit as frightening as I imagined. Especially this one. He could easily crush my skull with that big meaty hand of his. Bet that eye patch has a story behind it too.

The crowd shifts from righteous cheers at their Herald’s return to a buzz of excited chatter over the horned giant heading to the bar to chat up Flissa for a drink. A few others trail behind him, couple of elves, humans and a dwarf, and now the tavern is over crowded. Some will have to stand in the corner and I wonder if we’ll be asked to give up our table for the soldiers. But my face turns red when a fiery haired dwarf sees me and ambles over, Cadash right behind him. “Whiskers!” Varric greets.

Cadash claps me on the shoulder saying, “How’s it going, kid.”

“You’re friends with the Herald?” Falcon gapes at me, and I wince a little.

Sort of?

“We teamed up together in the Fallow Mire,” Cadash explains. “Hard to forget this one. Especially when he’s pissed.”

“That’s when the claws come out,” Sera comments, curling her fingers like they’re claws. “Rawr,” she growls. Both Falcon and Piper snort, amused, thinking they’re referring to my feistiness or my temper, though I do indeed have a temper, that’s for sure, but me I’m wanting to bury my head in the ground somewhere. Obviously Leliana never told her agents about what happened at the Fallow Mire and I’d rather it stay that way, but I have this awful feeling it won’t.

But in all likelihood, if the Herald tells them, they wont believe it anyway.

“Oh and is that why they call you Whiskers then?” Piper asks, curious.

“You want to hear the story?” Cadash asks, grinning from ear to ear. “Varric, you wanna tell ‘em?”

“Alright, make some room then. And I’ll tell you the tale.”

“Oh no Varric don’t,” I groan, palming my face.

“No, please do, I want to hear this,” Lenna pipes up. “Please tell us, Master Tethras.”

Well, at least the awkward tension of our drinking game is forgotten.

In favor of my torture however.

Falcon offers his seat to the Herald and Varric scans the room with his eyes for another. “Here, you can sit with me,” Piper says to me, waving me over. “There’s room enough for two. I don’t mind.” A blush covers my cheeks, but nevertheless I rise from my seat and shuffle around the table. “There you are,” Piper says to Varric, pointing to my empty seat. I expect for Piper to scoot over so the both of us can fit onto the chair but… he pats his leg and offers his lap.

I recite in my mind over and over that he’s not really interested in me romantically, just being polite, and is not uncomfortable with being in such close proximity with another male. He’s attracted to them, obviously, and knows that I am, and it’s nothing. It’s totally plutonic. In no way romantic whatsoever. I swallow nervously, biting my lip, and slowly lower myself to his lap. He loosely slides his arm around my waist, just getting comfortable I suppose, to listen to Varric’s tale.

He smells like soap and brandy, underneath a more natural scent that’s tantalizing to my senses. And I’m acutely aware of our close proximity. I tell myself it’s only to get comfortable when I loop my arm around his neck, feeling his arm absently curl tighter around me. Varric accepts the brimming mug of ale he’s handed, clearing his throat before he begins his tale. Once others catch on that the famous writer is about to spin a tale, vaguely layered over truth, they stop their chatter to listen.

“So, where do I begin? Because there are several beginnings actually. I think I’ll start with the _actual_ beginning this time around, so you really get the picture... It all started with a young elf, born into a humble family in southern Ferelden...”

Oh gods. Going back to my childhood is he?

“When the farmers his family worked for discovered his magical ability, they came to their hut with torches and pitchforks, forcing the child to flee for his life…”

“He’s over selling it,” I whisper. “Not how it happened at all.”

“Will you tell me the true version after then?” Piper murmurs in my ear, and I shiver a little.

“It won’t be as interesting,” I say.

“So there he was,” Varric continues, voice carrying across the tavern, waving his arms for effect, “Alone in the wilderness for six months, when he was captured by a tribe of Avvar…”


	9. Chapter 9

I study Elias’ expression for a moment, I imagine he’s wondering why I said I’ve not lived with a clan. I have one, I just don’t know them. Besides, I’ve already got at least three people who have already been aware of the connection. Six degrees of separation to the Wardens and the Blight, but I could care far less. Falcon has enough Dalish pride for both of us, anyway. It’s not a truly tragic story, far as I’m aware they’re all just fine and possibly dandy, but it’s not like we talk. 

At least it’s not just me that has trouble coming up with something on the spot. It’s an easy one. I’ve played cards maybe a grand total of four times in my life, against Starling and some of the others, at her insistence. I don’t care enough for the outcome to cheat, but now I’ll always suspect Falcon’s attempting to. Granted I’ve heard the rumors of the infamous Varric Tethras and I’m not surprised in the least. You can somewhat gather that Falc is just a bit self-conscious at times. Not so much that he doesn’t like to lose so much as he doesn’t want people to think he’s not good enough. 

I’ve got plenty of natural talent for this position, I more than meet most, of not all the hallmarks of a good spy, but Falcon, he didn’t at first, had to work very hard for everything he earned, I’ll give him that. I don’t really consider him a friend, but I suppose he’s more than an acquaintance, and I’ve certainly worked with less tolerable people, I don’t know what that makes him. 

It’s not until he brings up kissing men that I realize he’s trying to dig into the really intriguing stuff. I’m aware Falcon has no taste for men, the man’s helplessly traditional. I suspect even if he did have an interest he’d still settle down with someone out of obligation, but watching the way he favors Lenna? I know he’s not. He’s quite taken with her, and I suppose if she could tolerate him, they might make a decent couple. I am both a little surprised and not at all surprised that Elias has kissed men before, but Sera’s comment makes me curious to know the story there. I’m not around much but enough to have an understanding that she usually saves that particular term for the soldiers, more specifically the Templars typically. So the magical healer has made faces at at least one templar. 

Yet he seems more interested when I mention o have as well. Oh yes, I’ve been quite eagerly rebelling against my birthright since I was old enough to notice that guys were looking pretty good. Of course my first kiss wasn’t too long after I’d left home. Elven, alienate, swallowed swords, and my tongue as I recall. Of course that was the first example of short lived flings. Not for lack of trying, I recall being quite taken with him, wide eyed and still innocent enough to believe a kiss meant something serious. I also recall him taking up with a Dwarf that also functioned something like a boulder, flung him out of a smaller trebuchet several times a week. 

I don’t tend to question it much anymore last time was just a hair over half a year I’d wager, and I didn’t even bother to ask if he intended to stick around. I’m sort of used to the idea that I’m alright for a short time but not forever I guess. Wouldn’t mind it, but then I suppose that’s something for another time. Sera kissing women doesn’t surprise me in the least, but Lenna  _ does _ . Didn’t for a moment strike me as the type who might be interested. Sera eyes her with interest now, and I can see Falcon looking a little dismayed at the ide that he might have competition for her attention. 

For just a moment, I feel a little bad for him. He’s not the type to give up for anything, tenacious almost to a fault, but I suspect he’s never had to worry about a girl stealing away someone he fancied. His eyes light up when she specifies she’s never met the right  _ man _ . I can see the gears turning, trying to figure out what it would take to be that man. Sadly, I feel like he’s going to pester me for advice like I actually know how to do that. I know next to nothing about women, and even less about winning them over. I have  _ ideas _ , but that’s about it. 

After the revelation that Elias has been with men, I’m almost certain im not imagining the looks he’s been throwing me. I’m not what I’d consider jealous, but as ever, curious. I won’t ask. Not and possibly bring up something he doesn’t want to discuss. I don’t even hear Sera’s commentary when I take a drink. Of course I’ve slept with me. Before, not exactly a lot I’d guess, but a few. 

I notice two dwarves first, Varric and Cadash. Probably the closest look I’ve ever gotten of the Herald. He seems relatively much like any other dwarf, save that he’s not grouchy looking and his hand glows. I’m not certain I believe he’s been sent by Andraste, but I barely even see the sense in believing in anything other than your own self as it is. Still, it does feel almost otherworldly. The Qunari catches my attention though. I’ve seen a few in my day, Never this close though. Damn, he’s tall and broad. I don’t really know if I’m more intimidated, impressed or what o think, but he certainly  _ looks _ like he could destroy an entire fucking castle in a few minutes. 

Falcon doesn’t like men, but if the Herald has a fan club? He’d definitely be top tier. Whenever we work with Harding, I sometimes overhear him asking her questions, eventually ending with her getting frustrated, throwing her arms up and saying ‘I don’t know, ask  _ him! _ ” 

Their desire to join us at the table has me wanting to leave, but I’m somewhat glad I decide against it. It presents a certain opportunity, one that ends in my favor with Elias perched right on my lap. Honestly, holding him by the waist is equally so he doesn’t tumble right off, and equal because I’m a little bit interested to know how he feels like this. Much like I’d imagined, he’s warm, and soft, but I’m cautious not to let my hand wander away. I’d like to test the waters a little, but I’ve got plenty of discipline. Leliana makes quite sure we’re plenty prepared for anything. He could be completely naked, and much as I might like, I’ve got the capability to keep my eyes on his and my hands right where they are. 

If I’ve picked up the  _ right  _ signs, I’d absolutely do more than just look. Of course if I had my choice, I’d rather like to touch his hair. It looks like it should be soft, a bit on the smooth side. I force myself to pay attention to Varric’s way too early story if only to stop torturing myself with just how much I’d rather be nibbling his ear, or sneaking a few quick kisses when and if the focus ever shifted away long enough to get away with it. 

I’m more interested in hearing what actually happened over one of his overblown stories. Everyone knows he exaggerates and even outright lies, not like he hides it, in fact he’s very open about it. No one thinks twice about it, he’s just  _ that _ good. I’m not much for stories though, I’d rather live the experience than read it, and while I admit he’s got a flair for it, I’d rather be anywhere but here. Just me and a certain elf, somewhere quiet. Nothing necessarily perverse, but certainly getting to know each other over private drinks, no interruptions. Anything else that happened before, after or during? Not exactly something I minded considering, but nothing I’d force. 

Hell, for all I know I’ve misread everything and he’s not interested beyond a little appreciation for detail, rather than any kind of desire to go beyond the drinks and conversation. Let’s face it, I’m not paying attention to the story at all anymore, and I’ll admit I’ve poked through what files I could get my hands on. I know some private things about a lot of people here, regrettably nothing about Elias, but Varric? Oh, I’ve read  _ enough _ . I believe all it would take is one name to stun him into silence, but I opt not to. 

I’m good at what I do. And my boss? The best. Even so, I think I don’t really want to test my luck, not with a marksman who happens to have a faster loading, upgraded version of what looks like a toy by comparison. I’m quick with my bow, good in a fight, but I’m not out to hurt him, or worse, and I’m certain he has plenty more skill than I do. Besides, I like him well enough and he’s not wronged me personally. 

My only problem is that there’s way too many people for my taste. Even without Elias in the equation, there’s more people than I like to deal with on a day off. Max of like three, typically. I haven’t really had to deal with crowds like this since those days. I’m not concerned by them, so much as there’s so much chatter all around me I can barely think. 

I wonder for a moment if maybe I’ve been too quiet, so I punctuate the story with filler sounds like ‘ah.’ ‘Mhm.’ And the like. 

I realized anew that the game was over, and after a brief debate with myself on whether I could finish my drinks without issue. I don’t lend it much thought, I take a long drink before considering whether he’d like some. I’m not sure if his cup is empty, or if he can’t reach it here, or if maybe he’s forgotten about it, but I hold mine to him in offering, just in case. 

He doesn’t seem to be too pleased that the story is apparently still going, and to me that’s unusual. Most that I’ve met would love to be in the spotlight, but...I guess in a way he reminds me of myself in that way. I’d much rather be just a part of the scenery than the one up front that gets all the accolades. I guess when you really think about it, I’d rather be a nobody than a Herald. To put it in terms that make sense I guess. Then again, I guess I’ve never really been a nobody, but here? I can be. Just someone who does stuff on occasion. 

Granted a healer? That’s a big deal in an operation like this. Must be hard for him. I can’t resist giving him a tiny squeeze. No wonder he misses his complaining buddy. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to invite him to do just that if it would help relieve his stress at all. I wonder if this is the sort of thing Leliana was trying to encourage me towards. I almost done notice the way I’ve leaned against him, or that I can feel his heart beat on my chest, even through his back, it’s louder, faster, and I can’t quite decide if it’s nerves, excitement or something else entirely, something more in my favor. 

“So...same time tomorrow?” I whisper quietly in his ear. A bit emboldened by the idea, I add “maybe my place? Less likely to be so crowded at least.” 

Of course his room would work just as well at least. Drinking is a fine hobby no matter where it happens. I suppose that’s an accidental lie. My room usually never even has guests unless I’ve got a message or someone tells me to go somewhere. Even Leliana tries not to have to drop by if she’s given me time off. Some might be frightened of her, but I rather like her, she’s good to me and fair, and I try to repay that kindness in hard work. 

When he doesn’t say anything at first, I try to sweeten the offer just a little. “I’ll bring the drinks. Whatever you like.” 

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

“So…same time tomorrow?” he asks me. “Maybe my place? Less likely to be so crowded at least.”

My heart jumps right to my throat when I hear him suggest that, and I mentally war with myself for a moment over saying yes. But he had a good time tonight, and would like to do this again. More specifically, he had a good time with _me_ , and would like to see _me_ again. Gods! It’s as if whatever powers that be are dangling a juicy worm on a hook and I’m the fish being bated. I swallow the lump in my throat, mulling it over in my mind. It’s certainly tempting.

“I’ll bring the drinks. Whatever you like,” he adds, and I can’t help myself.

The words are out before I can take them back.

“That’s sounds very nice. I’d like that.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him smile.

“Anything particular you like to drink?” he asks me.

“I’m up for anything,” I hear myself say, even as my heart is raging in my ears.

If I’m going to be adventurous, might as well leave the surprises all up to him.

But maybe I can think of something for us to do tomorrow night that won’t land us tangled up in his bed sheets.

Varric is finishing up his long winded tale of the Fallow Mire expedition. People have been on the edge of their seats the whole night, listening intently, drinks in hand. Maryden had even stopped singing and sat with her lute propped on her lap, strumming quietly as Varric spoke. She even attributed to the ambiance of the tale with more intense playing during all the exciting parts. It’s been quite fun, but I hate that Varric made me such a huge part of the story.

I’m not a hero. If you ask me, it’s the Herald of Andraste that has earned such recognition. I’m just the Healer. And I just happened to have been involved because of my personal history with the villain. As I sit perched on his lap, Piper occasionally comments like he’s listening, but doesn’t believe an ounce of the tale. I told him Varric embellishes, but surprisingly, he kept closer to the original version than I thought he would. Perhaps because it’s more unbelievable than any lie he could tell anyway.

When the story is over, people have graciously applauded the storyteller, it’s late enough in the eve that Flissa begins closing down, and people shuffle their feet to clear the tables. Lenna asks me to walk her back to the workhouse where she sleeps. Falcon made the offer, but she declined. I can tell she’s not going to make it easy for him. Or Sera, where that is concerned. I think she wants to see which one will actually put up an effort to woo her. I doubt Sera will though.

Sera’s a good sort, and she’d never intentionally hurt someone–unless they deserved it–but she’s not one for long winded affairs. She likes quick and easy when it comes to relationships, and I highly doubt she’ll make a big fuss over buying her flowers and writing sonnets and such. Falcon on the other hand, I can’t be sure of that one. When Lenna stands up and asks me to walk with her, I share a glance with Piper before I get up, and say goodnight to everyone.

One thing I can say about him: he’s not what I expected. And another thing, at least whatever he wants from me, it isn’t just sex. Maybe he truly only wants to be friends. He could’ve invited me back to his quarters tonight, but he didn’t. Even though I’ve been painfully obvious with my attraction to him. He gives me another smile that takes my breath as I’m leaving, my blush returning in full force as I manage a small smile of my own and a little wave goodbye.

I let Lenna cling to my arm as we brace ourselves for the cold night air and step outside.

“I think someone is jealous,” she tells me as we’re walking. “Poor Piper. He looked like he would like to be the one to walk with you.” She giggles. “He likes you.”

“I doubt it,” I say, though it might be a lie. Don’t know who I’m lying to though. Lenna, or myself. “But he certainly seems agreeable, doesn’t he?”

“Agreeable?” she laughs. “The poor fellow hasn’t taken his eyes off you the whole night, and all you can say about him is, ‘he seems agreeable’?”

“And just how do you know he likes me, eh? Just because he invited me for a drink. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” she chortles. “For someone so smart, Healer, you can be rather dumb, you now that?”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t take it personally. She’s had a bit to drink. We make it to the work house in one piece and I quietly bid her goodnight. The other workers are already sleeping soundly in their cots, Lenna giggling as she tries to be quiet, tiptoeing around them. I sigh before I make my way to my own room, lock the door once I’m inside, and flop down on the mattress. I have a lot to think about tonight, and it makes it difficult to fall asleep, but once I do, I have the strangest of dreams.

I don’t know I’m in the Fade at first, as in my dream I’m still lying awake on my cot, tossing and turning restlessly. I hear the faintest of sounds coming from the other side of the door and I pause to listen. I know that Piper is a rogue, and being a scout for Leliana no doubt means he’s skilled with picking locks, so it’s not that hard for my mind to conjure the fictitious scene of him quietly picking the lock of my door and breaking in. The door slowly slides open, and closes with a muffled click.

Then I hear him turning the knob to lock it. I sit up in my cot and reach to strike a match, lighting a lantern nearby. I turn, and immediately I’m met with his mouth on mine, kissing me as he gently pushes me back down on the cot. He runs his fingers through my hair as he kisses, and climbs on top of me on the bed. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” he murmurs between kisses. “I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to wait another night to see you.”

I should stop him, but I can’t. The fictional Piper feels wonderful. Like a dream made real, the way his hands caress me, the way his mouth leaves mine to trail down my neck, then nibble my ear, making me sigh. I shouldn’t give in to this. I know I’ll only be hurt later on, and I shouldn’t be involved. I still remember what happened the last time I stopped thinking with my head and let other parts of me take control. There were a few, but the most recent comes to mind.

The moment I think of Wickam, the demon assumes that he’s what I really want. And that blunder is what alerts me to its nature.

“Mmm, don’t fancy the elf then,” it says with Piper’s voice. “Is it the Templar you long for then?”

It changes before my eyes to a half naked Wickam and I sigh a little in disappointment, realizing it’s a dream. It’s been a while since a demon’s gotten past my defenses. I learned fairly effective ways of guarding myself against them, but obviously my attraction to Piper has been strong enough to warrant a greater demon’s attention. Obviously not the most experienced desire demon, however, or the most clever, if they’re dumb enough to reveal themselves. I sit up a little.

“No, it’s not the Templar I want, I just happened to be thinking of him. Honestly, if we’re to play this game, could you change back into Piper first? At least him I can stand to look at.”

Wickam scowls at me, then slowly shifts back into the object of my desire. “Better?”

“Yes, much better.”

Not quite the same though. The tattoos are just a blurry mess, because I have no idea what they look like, other than the bits on his collar I’ve seen, and the demon only has about as much imagination as I do currently. But he’s got chiseled abs, and I can’t help but admire my own handiwork.

I fold my arms and wait expectantly for the demon to bargain with me, offer me my deepest darkest desires if I’d only let it possess me, per usual with desire demons. This particular aspect of desire, wearing Piper’s face, smiles coyly at me, not quite but _almost_ capturing that alluring charm of Piper’s. It’s been revealed to me to be a demon, so it doesn’t bother hiding those two black bottomless pits for eyes as it reaches to trace my jawline with a slender digit.

“You could have him, you know,” the demon promises. “I could give him to you. If you let me, I could give you all you desire and more.”

“I bet you _think_ you can,” I huff, hardly entertained by the demon’s attempt at seduction.

“Yes,” it hisses, some of the demon’s natural voice bleeding into Piper’s. “All your deepest, darkest desires. Anything you wish.”

“You can’t give me what I want,” I say, shaking my head in denial.

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re a demon of desire. I mean, true, I desire him, but I could get that myself. It’s not just about wanting to sleep with him.”

The demon studies me for a moment before tilting its chin. “Ah, I see. You crave something more… _pure_.” It wrinkles its nose in disgust. “You want him to fall in love with you.”

Well, if I really think about it, maybe yes. But it’s not Piper specifically I’m thinking of, nor is it even just love. I don’t really know what being in love is like, much less if I’ve ever felt it, and from what Varric tells me, love only ends in tragedy anyway. But I do want more than just sex with someone, I think. Or, maybe, the demon is telling me what I’ve been trying to ignore. The truth that I’ve been trying to deny. That I want more than just meaningless sex with someone. I want love.

I’d like to have a life with someone. But regardless of what I want, it’s not within the demon’s ability to provide. But it’s the sexual desire the demon was alerted to. 

Well, I don’t know if I’m going to get that, but the _demon_ has nothing to offer me that I want. “You’re getting boring, and less attractive by the minute, so if you don’t have anything better to offer me, you’d better scram.” My words anger the demon, and it turns as it growls, rising from the bed, shifting to its natural form, since Piper’s is no longer useful. She raises her sharp talons and means to kill me if she can’t possess me, but she’s not the only one with claws…

The next morning I’m grumbling under my breath over the whole conversation. I’ll continue to be plagued by demons if I don’t do something about this. And there’s really only one way to deal with desire. Give in to it. No, I can’t do anything about all my issues with relationships, but I can do something about this attraction to Piper at least. If I sleep with him, get it out of my system, demons can’t tempt me with something I can have for myself. I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.

I barely know anything about Piper. He doesn’t seem too keen on sharing personal information. Good, if you don’t plan on seeing someone after you sleep with them. Bad, if you plan on sleeping with someone you may have to work with at some point. I should go to Leliana with this, maybe see what she can tell me about him. After all, she’s his boss, more or less; she’s the one he’ll answer to if he sleeps with the Inquisition’s chief healer at Haven. Don’t want to get him any trouble.

So I make the plan of getting the spymaster’s advice.

Only problem will be figuring out a way to ask her about it, without revealing what I’m actually _asking_.


	11. Chapter 11

It’s difficult to get to sleep after I turn in for the night. Partly to do with the story, partly just that I can’t stop myself from trying to figure out what has me so interested in Elias. If I’m objective, he’s good looking, certainly, but I hardly know anything of him. Perhaps that’s it. I have gained a desire to know many things, perhaps it’s just that he’s a mystery to me that keeps me wondering. 

I try to think of anything else and that only succeeds in making it harder to sleep. I grew up hearing plenty of stories, sometimes the subject of them myself. I’m no hero, not like the subject of a good story should be. I was just a young boy when the Blight hit, grew up on stories of just how brave and important and wonderful the Hero Of Ferelden was, like I didn’t already know what happened from my mother and father’s overblown stories too. Practically raised not far from Kirkwall, so I had to hear  _ those _ stories too, I was the ungrateful child who didn’t appreciate what I had, that I didn’t have to grow up in some Creators-forsaken wood with nothing but a bow and the clothes on my back. 

I changed that by sheer force of will. Ran from it all not more than a year or so after, though somehow my parents _ always _ knew just where I was. Let me get my ‘temper tantrum’ out of my system, thinking I’d just come back to be bored dealing with all the typical bullshit that came with being  _ important _ . Even as a kid before I left home, there were endless propositions, trying to arrange marriage agreements with their daughters, some human, some Elven. Like I was little more than cattle simply because I’m next to inherit it all. 

No, I much preferred the gasps and cries and hushed conversation about how talented I was, how  _ amazing  _ it was to see someone do the things I could do, sometimes to the accompaniment of music, others in tense silence. The coin was nowhere near what I’d gotten at home, but that hardly mattered. I didn’t care if I had nothing, or everything, so long as  _ I  _ made my own choices, my own mistakes. 

When it had to end, I  _ did _ ponder going home. Thought it might be time, but then came news of the  _ Inquisition  _ , and I knew I had to see it for myself. I never expected to meet someone that I  _ wanted _ to know this much, that I hung on my hopes for another chance to see. I wanted choice, I wanted excitement and I’ve got that in spades here. 

I know enough now to realize I don’t want the spotlight, I don’t want to be the hero of this story. I’m more than content to run about in the background. That’s part of the reason I don’t want to work with Cullen on a regular basis. Nothing against him, I rather like him. A decent and fair man from what bits I know of him, though I’m also aware he wasn’t always that way. Oh yes. I read the files. Still, there’s no security in the front lines. Too close to being right in the target line. 

When I finally do get to sleep, I’m dismayed to find I’ve woken far earlier than I like. I’m not even certain I have a course of action plotted out for the morning, so I make my way to the mess hall, barely in my seat with my food when I smell desperation. Moments before I feel nervous hands shaking my shoulders. 

“What do you want, Falcon…” I mumble tiredly into my oats. 

He doesn’t ask, he just plunks down right across from me. If the way he looks says anything, I’m not the only one who didn’t sleep well. He looks like he’s been up with his thoughts as well. 

“I need your advice…Piper, you gotta help me…” he urges quietly. 

I raise a brow. I can’t deny I’m at least mildly curious what Dalish Confidence could possibly need from me, especially in the realm of advice. I opt to take a page from a certain dwarf and try for sarcasm. 

“Never skip the lube. And don’t forget to pull out unless you want baby Falcons.” I snort. 

He stops just before he’s about to speak again, briefly distracted by the statement. “You really think?” 

Falcon shakes his head, the distraction only a brief one, sadly. 

“Lenna!” He mutters like it’s a secret he was all but drooling over her last night. “She’s something else, Pipe...what do I do? I haven’t the foggiest how to win her over.” 

I laugh a bit too loudly, though it too is filled with sarcasm. “You think  _ I  _ know how to win a woman?” 

“Not specifically, but you’re clever, you must have  _ some  _ ideas?” He asked hopefully. 

“I might.” I tell him. “Though I see no benefit for me if I help.” 

He looks wounded for just a moment, before he pulls out a piece of parchment, scrawling some lengthy nonsense down. It takes me a moment to realize he’s still using code, a measure to ensure if anyone else picked it up they’d have no idea of what it meant. 

“I saw you making eyes at the healer. I knew you’d want something you actually care about. I dug up what I could, I’m not nearly as good at sneaking about as you are, but even  _ you _ will appreciate this.” He says. 

I grab the parchment, looking it over curiously. He’s not wrong. This  _ is _ interesting. Scandalous. A Templar and a mage? I wasn’t wrong on my assumption it  _ was _ indeed a Templar Elias has been involved with, but it’s not very specific. I have no idea which, aside from some vague references to it ending messily.  _ That _ could be that hesitation I’d picked up on. Well now I’ve got my own digging to do. 

Falcon stares at me expectantly, and I can’t help but think he looks more like a hopeful puppy than a bird of prey at that moment. Taking my hands through my hair, I sigh. 

“Why don’t you start slow, something nice.get her something pretty, or else something shiny. Women seem to like that. Save the jewelry until  _ after  _ you win her over. Pushy helps no one. Find out if she likes flowers and what kind, bring her those. Something sweet might go over well.” I say with a shrug. 

I may not be interested, but my family has made me deal with enough that I have a basic idea of what gets a reaction at least. Part of me hopes it works out for him. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out if I have to be the wisdom dispensary. He cradled my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks together. I didn’t quite realize how big his hands were, I don’t pay that much attention to him usually. 

“ _ Thank you! _ ” He says gratefully. “I could kiss you. I  _ could _ , but I don’t want to, so...I’m not going to. Good luck on your date tonight.” 

He’s left before I can insist it’s not actually a date. At least, I don’t  _ think _ it is. Is it? I have no idea anymore. All I know is I get about halfway through breakfast before I’m just not hungry anymore. Dumping off my dishes by the kitchen, I still have no idea what to do with myself. I’m not able to get far before I hear Leliana call for me. There it is, guessing I’m about to be sent out again, I’m almost sure of it. 

Forcing a pleasant smile, I amble over, folding my arms behind my back. 

“What can I do for you this fine morning?” I ask.

“You were out late, I hear.” She says with a smile. “Up early too. What did you do?” 

It’s not so much an interrogation as her being friendly. We have  _ unique  _ circumstances, you might say, and she’s always been relatively interested in what’s going on with me. Yet this time I feel like there’s an ulterior motive in her asking. 

“Ahh, well. I got drunk, picked a few pockets, slept like a rock. The usual. Nothing too exciting, I assure you. All terribly boring.” I tell her. 

“Oh, that’s a pity. I had hoped you’d found someone nice to talk to. Remember, you really shouldn’t have to hold everything in.” She sighs. 

I grin at that, shrugging. “I’m not. I have you around to keep me sane, I don’t need anyone else.” 

“Like I don’t see that you’re trying to flatter me so I’ll stop prying into your business.” She says. 

“Now why ever would I do that?” I hum innocently. 

She smiles, waving me off. “Go on then. I’m sure you’ve more important things to do.” 

“I’ll be on my way the-“ I don’t even get a chance to finish it before I notice she’s swiped the parchment from me.

“Like looking for a certain  _ lieutenant? _ ” She says. 

It’s not even on the parchment that he’s  _ ranked _ . I know her. She doesn’t just let things like that slip on accident. She knows I’m up to something, and for whatever reason, she’s given me a clue in my search. Not sure why, but I’m damn well gonna take it. I need to know this story, I want to know why it ended and how they parted. If it was messy, I want to know  _ why. _

“Yes, it would seem that’s  _ exactly  _ what I was doing.” I say, nodding. 

Turning on my heel to leave, she stops me one last time. 

“Piper.” She calls.

“Yes?” I reply. 

“You know, I can see right through your lies.” She tells me. 

“Wouldn’t be much of a spymaster if you couldn’t.” I laugh. “I’ll keep working on it.” 

“I hope you’re not planning to  _ lie _ to whoever it is you’re so eager to see.” She says. 

_ That  _ makes me stop dead in my tracks. I’m not certain  _ how  _ she knows about that. As far as I know, most were busy listening to the story, not what plans  _ I  _ was making. Then again, I suppose it’s her business to know everything that goes on in Haven. 

“Anything else?” I ask hesitantly. 

“Shaya says to tell you hello, and she hopes you’re washing behind your ears, since you won’t let Miri fuss over you.” She replies. 

I can’t help but slump over at that, rolling my eyes. Groaning, I glance over my shoulder. “I  _ always _ wash behind my ears! and since I know you will anyway, tell her I say hello as well…” 

I’m probably acting a bit closer to my age for once, a fact I’m not entirely proud of. I’m no child, but to some, im barely an adult. To Leliana at least, i think im absolutely a child, a mix both of her being a fair bit older than I and that she knows  _ exactly  _ how old I am. And maybe she realizes in some ways I never completely managed to grow up I guess. 

“I think you should wear the red vest today. Four buttons. Liven up your room. Perhaps some white and pink carnations. Also may I suggest you  _ don’t  _ go with anything too strong to drink. Conversation is best over a light wine.” She suggests.

“Is there anything you don’t  _ already _ know?” I ask.

“Actually, I’m not quite sure  _ who _ you intend to meet. It’s my business to know, but I’m not trying to pry into your personal affairs.” She says. 

“Aff-...Could you  _ not _ call it that please?” I ask. 

“You’re blushing. It’s kind of cute. Whoever he is, you must be quite fond of him.” She teases. 

“I’m  _ leaving!”  _ I huff.

Even as I’m walking away, I can hear her giggling. Grumbling to myself under my breath, I circle back to my room to grab my coin pouch. As much as I’d like to forget  _ that _ interaction, I also realize she’s already been with the same woman for this long, maybe it’s best to take her advice. I wonder if Seggrit sells flowers or if I’ll have to look elsewhere...


	12. Chapter 12

_**Elias** _

“Well, someone’s in a mood,” I hear Sev mumble behind me as I’m organizing my workspace in the infirmary.

“He’s _always_ in a mood,” Georgie chuckles beside him. “But I imagine this one in particular is caused by a certain elf he met with at the tavern last night.”

“I’m just glad he’s not brooding over the lieutenant still,” Sev tells her and I sigh at them both.

“You know I can hear you both,” I say, turning around, to see they’re both smiling.

“We know,” they chime together and I roll my eyes.

“It’s not what you think,” I sigh, turning back to my task. “We’re only friends.”

Yes, I’m still in denial of my feelings, but it’s useless at this point. My apprentices have worked with me long enough to see right through my façade. But I’m still hesitant to even come to terms with how I feel. Better to deny it, rather than look the fool later on when he rejects me, just like Wickam did. I still get hushed whispers and snickering behind my back over what happened between us, the gossip making me out to be some sort of love sick puppy, pining for the Templar.

I would absolutely love to happily move on with someone else, to put the gossipers to rest, but I’m not sure if that man will be Piper or another. We’ve only just spoken with one another a handful of times, and I still don’t know if he even likes me, let alone if he’d want anything meaningful. There’s very little do to at the moment in the Healer’s cabin, so I leave Sev and Georgie to finish up the cleaning and head across Haven to the work house, to see Lenna.

I step into the cabin and nearly gag on the smells. There’s two young Tranquil working at one end to dye fabric for the uniforms Lenna and her assistant are making. She’s quite happy with her lot in life at the moment. She has underlings to help her now, and she’s in charge of the whole operation, directing them where to go and what to do, and she sits in the corner with her sewing needle and mends one of the soldier’s cloaks. Not just any cloak either. I recognize that fur mantle.

“You lucky woman, you,” I grin as I approach the woman, seating myself on the bench beside her. “Mending the Commander’s cloak, I see.” Lenna smirks as I’m reaching to brush my fingers against the soft fur, slightly damp still from the light snow fall outside. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have Lenna’s job at the moment, getting to watch Cullen strip out of his armor to hand his tunic to me to mend. Seeing what must be a perfectly sculpted human body hiding under that metal.

I would never wish for him to be injured though. Sure, I could strip him down to treat him, but I would never pray for the Commander to ever be hurt. Or anyone for that matter. I don’t look forward to my job like Lenna and others do. I can’t take pride in it like they can. I can only be ready and waiting should someone need my attention, and hope and pray for the best of outcomes. That’s it…But briefly the thought crosses my mind of Piper needing more serious treatment.

For some reason, it gives me an entirely different feeling. Part of it is dread, that he should ever require my magic to stitch his wounds, but then part of it is like sampling forbidden fruit. I don’t know why I feel that way, but something about picturing Piper stepping into my dwelling, and peeling his tunic off, asking me to heal him, sets me on fire like nothing ever has. And I feel almost shameful for such a thought. Like I shouldn’t even feel it. Maybe it’s just the demon still messing with my head.

“According to Cullen I’m the best seamstress in the Frostbacks,” Lenna giggles at me as she sews. “Of course, I’m the only seamstress in the Frostbacks, but I’m not put off by it. I’m certain he was just trying to be sweet. You wouldn’t think such a big scary soldier would be so shy, but he blushes whenever he comes by for updates on the goings on. It’s adorable. The way his cheeks turn the color of embrium.” I chuckle at that. Sounds like someone fancies the woman.

“Hmm, seems like someone has a crush on you,” I say, and she snorts. “Better hope he doesn’t find out about Falcon.”

She pricks her finger by accident when I say his name, and suddenly _she’s_ the one turning the color of embrium. “Whatever would make you say such a thing?” she asks.

“What, you don’t think the Commander would be jealous should he learn the Dalish is planning to romance you?”

“R-romance me?” she stumbles, setting the cloak aside and folding her hands on her lap. “I-I don’t think Messere Falcon has any sort of intentions. I’m sure last night he was only being friendly. He’s not actually going to…”

“Want to place bets on it?” I ask. Lenna pinches her lips. “The man absolutely adores you. At least that’s the impression I got. And I highly doubt he’ll soon forget you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she grumbles. “He was probably just being nice to me so he wouldn’t look bad in front of his friend. I’ve…” She leans closer and hisses, “I’ve never even been with a man, El. I wouldn’t know what to do with one. You really think someone like him would want anything to do with a woman like me?” Well, given how attractive she is, he’ll certainly give it a shot. “And I don’t even know if he’d stick around afterwards. Hate to end up like you. No offense.”

I sigh. “None taken,” I mumble.

“So what brings you here anyway?” she asks me.

“Was wondering if you had a bit of scrap cloth I could steal from you. And a spare sewing kit.”

“I do. But what are you making? I didn’t even know you could sew.”

Well, I’m not going to make a shirt. “I plan to make something for Piper.”

Her eyes get huge in her head. She gasps. “Awe, a romantic gift!”

I groan. “Gods dammit, it’s not like that between us.”

“Want to place bets on that?” she teases. I scowl at her.

“It’s just something for the both of us to do this evening. A game to play.”

“What sort of game?”

“The sort that requires a board and pieces, which I need to make.”

I haggle Lenna for a small square of linen, some thread and a needle, then sit and stitch the playing board. I use a darker thread so that the smaller squares will stand out against the light shade of fabric, pricking my fingers several times, listening to the workers around me as I work. Occasionally commenting on something, but mostly concentrating on my task. I don’t have the time to carve pieces from wood, so I plan to use pebbles instead for the game pieces. It’ll have to do.

Hopefully Piper will like the idea, and not think it completely ridiculous.

It feels ridiculous for some reason.

Like maybe I’m just wasting my time.

I keep to my plan and find Leliana after, to inquire about the elf. “Did we have an appointment?” she asks me, outside her tent, and I shake my head.

“No?”

“Is everything alright, Healer?”

“Yes.” _I think_. “I just was wondering something. Are you busy?”

“Not at the moment. What would you like to talk about?”

“Your scout, Piper.”

She fights a smile for some reason, and I can’t think of what. “What? What is it?”

“Oh nothing,” she says, shaking her head a little.

“No really what?”

“Nothing!” she laughs. “What would you like to know about him?”

“I don’t know, just _about_ him. What’s his story?” I blink several times. “Or wait, should I not know? Is it supposed to be a secret? Because if it is, you don’t have to tell me, I was just curious.”

She smirks. “You do remember curiosity killed the cat.”

“Oh haha funny,” I grouse, less than pleased with the spymaster’s joke and she chuckles.

“Why not ask him yourself?”

“Well, I plan to, I just…” I fidget nervously. How do I explain myself _without_ explaining myself? How much does Leliana know already? “We met in the tavern the other night, and he invited me for a drink, and I was just wondering…if I shouldn’t? This won’t get me in trouble, will it?”

“Why would having a drink with another agent get you in trouble, Elias?” she asks me, narrowing her eyes as if suspicious. Or confused. “Plan on having more than just a drink with him?”

“Uh, no? Maybe? Uhm…” I scratch my head. “Is that bad?”

She shakes her head. “No. What our agents do in their free time is their business. It only becomes my business when it effects their ability to get the job done. So what is your concern with Piper, exactly?”

“Well, I just wanted to know what you could tell me about him.”

“Not anything he can’t tell you himself.”

Ugh. I hate when she does this. I sigh a little. “I was only wondering if I need to, I don’t know, watch myself around him. I remember what happened to Farrier. He wouldn’t do something like that, would he?”

“No. He wouldn’t. Piper is a good sort. And smart enough to not betray me. But is that your only concern? Whether or not my agents will be loyal to the Inquisition?”

Not necessarily, but… “He wouldn’t uh…he wouldn't trick me or something, would he? You know like cheat me at cards, or pull the wool over me eyes, something like that.”

Leliana regards me incredulously for a moment. She sees right through me, despite my best efforts to remain calm and collected throughout the conversation. I have a bad feeling she knows _exactly_ what I’m really asking, confirmed when she steps closer, puts her hand on my shoulder and gently says, “He’s _not_ Wickam,” And my shoulders slump. “It’s not hard to see that’s what you truly want to know. And I assure you, he’s not. Piper may be many things, but he’s not the lieutenant.”

“But it’s those things he _is_ that I’m concerned about.”

She smiles a little sorrowfully. “I can’t promise you anything, Elias. All I can say is talk to him. Get to know him better. And decide for yourself if it’s worth the effort or no. When I first met Lady Mahariel, all I could do was take a chance. A leap of faith, and pray that things worked out for the better. Joining the Warden ended up being one of the best decisions I could have made. I was proud to follow her into battle. I would not have had that pleasure if I dismissed her entirely.”

I sigh and nod a little at that. She doesn’t need to disclose the full details of her adventures with the Hero of Ferelden for me to get the picture. I get what she’s saying without actually hearing it.

If I assume he’s just another Wickam, then that’s all he’ll ever be to me.

A leap of faith, eh?

Well, cats can jump pretty high.

And they do always land on their feet, don’t they?


	13. Chapter 13

Piper

I sigh, busily arranging flowers around my room. If it wasn’t for a good cause, it might feel more tedious, but as it stands it _does_ add something to my rather plain quarters. I spy the wine I’d gotten, for some reason, left in my room with a nicely written note from Josephine. I suspect Leliana’s hand in that much, I don’t miss the fact that it seems to be Antivan. For just a moment, I imagine her blabbing to the whole camp, but she wouldn’t go that far, would she? 

I pick up a silver tray I pilfered from a small settlement in the Hinterlands, full of crazies, I’d imagine. The first time I’d been there, all they could talk about was nonsense, the next? How amazing the Herald was. Cadash really got around, didn’t he? 

I sigh again, trying to decide how best to deal with my hair today. I personally prefer it as is, just down and maybe a touch fluffy, but at the same time, I’m just not sure. I figure it’s probably okay, he doesn’t seem the type to care one way or another if I do anything crazy with it, after all. Shrugging into the red vest Leliana suggested, I button it up, it only has two, but I leave the top four of the undershirt undone as she recommended. Looking myself over I’m reluctant to admit she clearly knows what she’s talking about. 

There’s a knock at the door, and I’m sure it’s early for Elias to be arriving. I’m not sure who it could be, fairly certain he wouldn’t show up this early. I fight the urge to roll my eyes when I see Falcon with a small basket of sweet snacks and a bouquet of light pink flowers. 

“Y’know, not that it’s not a nice gesture but I’m just not into you.” I say flatly. 

“Come on...this isn’t for you, it’s for...you know…” he mutters nervously. 

He’s an absolute mess. Really is taken with this girl. I gather he’s seeking my approval on his gifts. Looking them over thoroughly, I can’t help but notice he even wrote out a short note. It’s pretty good, I think. 

“These should be fine. Why pink though?” I’m curious. “I feel like white would be better.” I ask. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think it through, but it sort of matches her lips don’t they?” He shrugs. 

I’m no stranger to the language of flowers, we sometimes use them in missions to communicate certain things we shouldn’t say out loud or through notes. I know very well why Leliana recommended the exact type and colors that she did. Falcon though, he’s a bit slower on catching up, but at the same time, despite the strong message he’s opting to send, his reasoning is kind of sweet, I guess. 

“Well. I wish you luck.” I tell him. 

“You’re not coming with me?” He asks dejectedly. 

“I got my own preparations to make. You’re a big boy, you don’t need me holding your hand the whole way.” I decline immediately. 

“What am I supposed to _say?!_ ” He says anxiously.

“Tell her you think she’s pretty and you’d really like to go somewhere and spend time together. Ask the girl out.” I explain. 

“Ask her out...okay, I can do that…” he mumbles to himself. 

Turning around, he clutched his basket tighter, walking off across the yard. For about half a second, I imagine this is exactly what it must be like to be a father, trying to explain dating to an idiot son. I’m very glad he’s not mine. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if he was. Probably take one of those infamous quick runs for something that takes years. 

Besides, I’m having enough trouble with my own plans without worrying about his. Although I’m a great deal more certain I could get what I wanted, the problem is I’m not quite sure what I want. I’ve thought it before but if all he wants is a quick tumble, I’m alright with that, but a part of me wonders if he could be something more. I like the idea, but I have to remind myself I barely know the man. 

I only have the one chair, I hope it doesn’t seem weird if I sit on the bed. I realize it could seem like I’m trying to hint at something, but really I just haven’t found the time to go steal one off Falcon. I wish I had something I could do to entertain, but I’m not sure he likes books, and aside from spying and occasionally killing people, I have no really interesting things, at least not without sufficient setup to pull off some tricks. 

Kind of makes me realize that I haven’t done as much with my life as I thought. I’m useful here, but take the Inquisition away and I guess I’m fairly ill equipped to do much. Sad. 

I peer out the window curiously, it’s getting dark out, and I think that means he should be here fairly soon. I retreat back to my bed and take a seat, folding my hands on my lap. I’m still debating with myself what exactly we’re supposed to do to pass the time when there’s another knock on the door. Groaning to myself, I call for them to come in. I’m fairly certain it’s got to be Falcon again, and I’m partially right, he’s tagging behind some soldier I don’t know. 

Clearing his throat, he salutes, and I’m so glad I’m not a soldier. Imagine having to do that any time you meet someone or however it works. He holds out a rolled piece of parchment for me, and I raise a brow at that, waiting to hear what it’s about. 

“Apologies, Leliana asked that I dropped this by for you.” He said. 

“Don’t you work for Cullen?” I ask. 

He shrugs. “Allegedly. I just don’t want to cross her.” 

“Understood.” I say. Looking it over, I grumble to myself. I thought it might be some last minute advice, but it turns out she’s just dealt with my letters from home differently so I’d actually read it. “Thanks, I guess.” 

He nods and excuses himself, and Falcon grins, looking rather proud of himself. I imagine it must have gone pretty well, so I wait for the good news. When he doesn’t say anything, I try to prompt a bit. 

“Well?” I say. 

“I gave her the gifts, just like you said!” He puffs with pride. 

“So...did she say yes?” I wonder. 

“I...forgot to ask.” He admits. 

“What?! That was the point, how do you forget that?” I groan more to myself than anything. “Unbelievable.” 

It has to be an oversight, but it’s probably a good thing I didn’t know just how bad it was. 

_“You’re kind of really pretty, I got a...some things for you...ugh…” he pushed the basket in her arms, handing her the flowers before dashing off nervously._

I’ve seen him around girls on missions before. He’s ridiculously smooth, and that’s just to girls he doesn’t know and like. For him to get so tongue tied and forgetful that he can’t string together a simple sentence: “these are for you, would you go on a date with me?” At the most forward and simple? I’m not one to believe in something like love at first sight, but it almost must be the case. 

“Well…assuming she doesn’t think you’re a total moron by now and she’s still interested, perhaps I can help you salvage this, but for now I definitely need for you to make yourself scarce. I do have plans tonight. “ I tell him. 

“You really think I might have messed it up?” He pouts. 

“I don’t know, maybe? Like I said, I’ll help you out later, alright?” I reiterate. 

He nods slowly and rises from his seat, shuffling out like he’s been punished rather than just told he’d get what he might need later on. I put the letter away, sighing yet again. How is it I’m the solution to everyone’s need for assistance or amusement or whatever it is. All I know is just once I’d like something to go well without a hitch. I don’t need Falcon’s bad luck rubbing off on me when I’m trying very hard _not_ to make a complete fool of myself. So far I think I’m doing well, but then again my partner’s terrible luck has me concerned now. 

I take one last look in the mirror and give myself a once over. I look fine, perhaps I’m just overreacting and there’s nothing particularly out of place. I’m just psyching myself out. That in mind, I decide to do something to quiet my mind down, plucking a book off the shelf. I barely open the cover and there’s another knock. 

“So help me if that’s you, Falcon…” I complain loudly. 

This is probably the most I’ve been bothered in the entire time I’ve been here. There’s some hesitation, but then the door opens again and I notice it’s actually Cullen. Odd. Didn’t realize he made house calls now. 

“Sorry. What do you need, Commander?” I ask quietly. 

“Am I interrupting something?” He wonders, gesturing to the flowers. 

“I’m...expecting someone.” I say hesitantly. He probably already knows, no sense in hiding it. “Elias should be here soon.” 

“I suspected as much. Heard you’ve been poking around.” He laughs. 

“Have you now? Suppose you’re here then to tell me to knock it off?” I ask. 

He kneads the back of his neck slowly. “Well, no. I figured the others contributed something, I might as well too. I feel bad about what Wickam did. I guess I just want to make it up somehow.” 

He holds out a small bottle of oil, and he gestured to his neck and chest with a shrug. “It uh… it’s for...it smells good.” 

I suspect it’s a gift from one of his many admirers, I don’t see him as the type to buy something like this, let alone for someone else.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “Forgive my boldness, I know you probably would rather not say, but what exactly did your man do?” 

He sighs, unsure if he really wants to get involved. “He may have broke the poor boy’s heart, I’m afraid. It’s not much, but I’ve put him on less than favorable duties as a sort of warning.” 

I laugh a little at that. “Shitkicker is the guy?” 

It’s a nickname I came up with when I noticed it’s always the same guy tending the latrines. I actually see him _grin_ at that. He even laughs. I didn’t know he _could_ laugh. I’m… stunned, honestly. 

“That’s him. Well. I just thought I’d bring that by.” He says, excusing himself, though he stops at the door. “Don’t hurt him, alright? And about _Shitkicker_ as you call him. Don’t be too easy on him, because I know _you_ . You’ve no doubt been digging because you want to deal with him. Just leave him in one piece. He’s a jerk, but I _do_ still need him. How else will everyone use the bathroom without him after all?” 

He leaves me with that, chuckling a little on his way out. I stare at the bottle, deciding to put a little on. Smells pretty good, actually. I’ve never been attracted to humans but for just a moment, the thought of him smelling like that has me considering how quickly I could tear that armor off him. 

I’m just about to return to my book when I hear another knock. This time though, it’s Elias on the other side of the door, glancing back curiously as the Commander returns to the yard. 

“It isn’t much.” I say. “But make yourself comfortable, if you can.” 

It’s definitely no luxury accommodations, just the basics, but the invitation is a surprisingly honest one.i stand up and pull out the chair for him, it’s not as though my time away from home has managed to destroy _all_ my manners, after all. 


	14. Chapter 14

Earlier in the day, as I’m pacing in my room, Lenna pounds on the door frantically. “Elias? Elias, are you in there?”

“What?” I say, swinging the door open, and I see that she’s holding a bouquet of fresh pink flowers. How she managed to get those in the Frostbacks must be magic. “What are those?” I ask, like an idiot.

“Flowers,” she says, nervously, as she enters my cabin and shuts the door behind her. “Falcon gave them to me. You were right. He likes me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. What happened? What did he say to you?”

“Well, that’s just it. He didn’t _say_ anything. Just handed them to me, and ran off before I could so much as thank him! What does that mean?” She flops down on my bed, stroking the pink petals with her thumb. “And they’re pink. Do you think it means something?”

I. ..honestly have no idea. What _does_ it mean when a man gives you pink flowers?

“Well, it’s a romantic gesture, obviously.”

“Well, duh. I know that much, but…well, the ladies I used to wait on always said different colors have different meanings, but what about these ones? Does it mean he only fancies me? Or is he deeply in love with me?”

“I highly doubt he’s deeply in love with you. He only met you the once.”

“Well, that’s just it too.” She sits up a little. “I’ve seen him everywhere I go. By accident of course, but he always seems to be nearby. When I delivered the Commander’s cloak to him in the training yard, Falcon was over there, talking to Lysette. When I went to the mess tent for midday meal, Falcon was there too. And when I went to the Chantry, well you get the idea. Do you think he’s been following me? Like he’s doing it on purpose?”

“It’s a very small village, Lenna, you’re bound to run into him at some point.”

“But… _everywhere_ I go?”

“You’re right, it might not just be a coincidence.”

Lenna sighs and stares fondly at the flowers, like she’s gazing at Falcon himself. “Do you think I should do it?” she finally asks. “Do you think I should sleep with him?”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know. He’s certainly handsome. And I bet he knows what he’s doing with that ‘equipment’ he’s packing,” she giggles. “And I may not have ever been with a man, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t heard the women whispering about how good it is. Provided you find the right one. But is Falcon really that man? Do you think he’d ever want something…serious?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, love,” I say. “I can no more tell you what’s on his mind than anyone can. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“Should I? I mean, should I be that forward? Or wait for him to approach me again? Which one sends the right message?”

I groan and palm my face.

I’m the _last_ person that should be giving relationship advice.

“Why not ask someone with some experience in this? I’m not exactly the best example to live by when it comes to courting rituals.”

She mulls it over. “You know, you’re right. You lived with those Avvars. That’s probably not the best way to go about it. Do they really kidnap their fiancé and tie them up?”

A sudden thought occurs to me as she’s asking that. I realize that Lenna wants to know the proper, civilized way to be courted, like a proper lady, and I truly know nothing about all that. But Lenna has lived among Chantry folk her whole life, waited on the Mothers and Sisters and the proper Andrastian ladies that visited Haven on pilgrimage. She’s never even lived in an alienage. She may not be human, but she lives in their world and wants to be a part of it.

“You know, you should speak to Lady Josephine about the matter,” I suggest, mostly because she’s the only human noble I know at the moment, and the only Lady, who probably knows all the proper etiquette and everything. Lenna’s eyes widen, as if that’s such a good idea.

“Do you think she’ll have the time to speak to me? One of the _workers_? She’s never spoken to me before, and I know she’s always busy. Surely she’s got a million and one better things to do.”

“And miss out on an opportunity to ensure the Inquisition’s workers have the best manners and know all the right pleasantries? Doubt it. Lady Josephine likes to make sure the Inquisition leaves a good impression on its visiting nobles.” Learned that one from Siva. He used to complain to me all the time about how important the Inquisition’s ‘reputation’ was. “And she’s very nice and polite, Lenna. I don’t think she’ll turn you away if you need a bit of advice.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to her then.”

I sigh when she leaves and turn back to the bundle of clothes in my trunk. I finished the game I made for Piper and myself to play, and it sits on the stand next to my bed. I wrapped the pieces in the playing board and tied it with a string. The pieces themselves are the smoothest, roundest pebbles I could find earlier, down by the lake. I had to dig them out with a spade, and come up with some dumb excuse as to why I was digging for rocks in the frozen dirt.

Told them it was a technique the Avvar shamans used to heal aches and pains. Heated the pebbles and placed them on someone’s skin to ease the ache. Worked wonders. Never seen them actually do something like that, but they believed it. Took the pebbles up to the armory and got some tint from Herrit to color them. Black and white were the colors always used at Stone-Bear Hold, so that’s what I painted them. Makes no difference what color they are, as long as you can tell them apart.

So the game is ready to play, and now all I have to do is figure out what I’m going to wear that night, when someone else comes to my door. But this person doesn’t knock. The door bursts open and Sera barges right in, slamming the door shut with a huff and flopping down on the bed like she owns the place. “Gods above! Since when are my quarters the watering hole where everyone comes to unload their problems? Thought that was the pub?”

“When you say that, what gods are you actually talking about?” she wonders aloud, furrowing a brow, staring at the ceiling. “Cause you mention them a lot. Gods this, gods that. But _which_ ones?”

“Whichever ones are going to tell me what the fuck you’re doing in my room!”

Sera pouts, folding her arms. “You know what he did?! He brought her flowers! It’s so _stupid_!”

Oh great. Just fucking wonderful. Sera heard that Lenna got flowers and I’m about to be dragged into it somehow. I just have that feeling. “Who brought who flowers? And why do you care?”

“The stinky buzzard! Stupid what’s-his-face with the stupid bird name! Brought the pretty one flowers. Idiot. If I did somethin’ for her, I’d do somethin’ better than flowers. Somethin’ useful. Like kick that dirty shite bag right in the man bits!”

Now there’s an image I didn’t need.

“So?”

“So? What do you mean, so? Help me Whiskers! What do I do? Help me get in good with ‘er. How do I impress her? Got to do better than flowers, right? So what’s better than flowers? Do you think she’d like a locket or somethin’? Or a shiny bit for her finger?”

“Oh gods!” I laugh. “Don’t give her a ring, she’ll think you’re proposing!”

“Eh, you’re right. So what do I do?”

“Why is everyone coming to me for advice?” I wonder aloud.

“Good point,” Sera shrugs. “You don’t even like girls. Ick! You like smashin’ your codpiece with someone else’s sweaty codpiece!”

“I do, yes.”

Sera taps her chin for a moment, still staring up at the ceiling. Then she pops up, grinning. “Oh I know! I’ll put earwigs in his bed! Won’t go near her after that, right?” She laughs manically.

“No, Sera, don’t!”

“Too late!” She jumps up from the bed. “I’m doin’ it!”

“Do you not remember what happened the last time you pranked one of Leliana’s scouts?”

She pauses in the doorway.

“Oh. Right…Scary, that one.” She comes to sit back down on the bed. “Help me think of somethin’ then. You do that, I might even help you get in good with your little knifey-shivdark, all shady with his daggers and his… _other_ knife. The one he stabs you with.” I shoot Sera a curious glance as I’m rummaging through my trunk. Stab me? With what knife? What does that mea–Oh! Oh I get it. “You gettin’ all dressed up to see him again, yeah? Want me to snoop around?”

“What for?”

“Dunno, but I could find out some things. Like maybe what he likes. Besides you, of course.”

“It’s not like that between us. We’re just friends.”

“Horse shite!” Sera laughs. “Then what are you going to his room for, yeah?”

“Just to talk,” I shrug.

“Right, sure,” she clutches her stomach as she laughs. “You’re a silly one, Whiskers. But I like this one. He’s a good one. He’s not like that stupid Templar. Ought to keep him around.”

I don’t really know what to say to that. But it seems everyone–even Sera!–thinks I should be with him. Don’t know what they’re seeing, but obviously I’m missing something here. I sigh a little, closing my trunk, after I’ve snatched the red tunic from the bottom. It’s the only one that’s still clean and has yet to have any stains on it. Red it is. Hope Piper likes red. “As far as Lenna goes, here’s what you do. You go out, you go to the workshop, and you ask her to dinner.”

I probably shouldn’t be encouraging her at all, but honestly, I’m quite curious to see who Lenna might end up with if they compete for her. So I’m playing demon’s advocate here. Sue me.

Besides, when I’m not healing wounded, what else is there to do in this sleepy town?

“Ask her to dinner? What for?”

“To talk to her. To get to know her better.”

Sera groans. “Sounds like a headache.”

“Do you want to be with her or not?”

“Well, yeah, but…Oh fine. I’ll do it. But you first. You ask sneaky stab-stab to dinner, _real_ dinner, not ‘oh we’re just friends!’ type dinner, and I’ll talk to Lenna. How’s that sound?”

Doesn’t sound fair at all. “I’ll think about it,” I mumble, and she smirks, like she won the argument. A pretty one sided argument if you ask me. I feel like I had no say in the issue. It’s been decided for me. I’m to ask Piper to have dinner with me, and that’s that. She winks at me as she’s skipping out the door. But later that night, I give it some consideration. Asking Piper on an actual outing. A real date. I’ve…never actually been on one.

He lets me into his living space politely and offers me the chair to sit while he finishes the last bits of tidying up, snatching some papers from the desk and quickly stuffing them in a trunk. There are floral arrangements. Flowers? Piper likes flowers? Or did he do this just for me? There’s a bottle of wine sitting out, and a few candles lit nearby, and something smells wonderful. I think it’s him, actually. “What’s that?” he asks, gesturing to the pouch sitting on my lap.

“I made this for us. It’s a game I thought we could play. The Avvar taught it to me. It’s called Tafl. Would you like to play?”

“Alright, sure.”

“Let’s sit on the bed. More room for the both of us.” I move to the bed and sit with my leg under me, untying the satchel, revealing the painted stones and the checkered fabric. Piper raises a brow, curious of this. “Why don’t you pour us some of that wine, and I’ll set the pieces up.” I keep my eyes on the board as I’m arranging all the stones properly on it, in all their little squares, but I hear Piper tinkering around, getting two cups and pulling out a dagger to pop the cork on the wine bottle.

Because of Sera’s comment, thinking of daggers makes me blush. I hope Piper doesn’t notice. He joins me on the bed, handing me a cup. “Thank you.”

“Right, so, Tafl. How do we play?”


	15. Chapter 15

I stare at the game Elias has brought. I don’t know it, but let’s face it, if it has nothing to do with cards or the time passing games we sometimes play on the job, including the relatively morbid ‘I bet I can shoot more than you can’ or ‘I’m gonna hit the next one in the eye’. This? This may as well be some kind of magic trickery. Who the hell knows. On the other hand, he seems to have extended some effort to make this, and appears to be eager to teach it. I figure I’ll at least  _ try _ to pay some attention to how it goes. 

I’m no fool when it comes to brain work, I have plenty of things I have to calculate all in my head, the correct angle I need to hit my target, how much speed I need to work up to get just the right amount of force in my jump to scale a wall. Even before all this, I still had plenty to think about. How exactly I needed to move to avoid being stabbed, how far I need to bend to grab the next hold, and more besides. 

I really know nothing about this, but I’ll try. I take a drink, trying to see if I can guess at what’s supposed to happen here. I can’t, but it doesn’t look like it should be as complex as my mind insists it must be. At least it’s quiet now and there’s no distractions. I’m pleased with that much, at least. 

Elias looks like he put a bit of effort into his appearance too, everything looks about as nice as he’s seen. Not that he’s by any means sloppy, but the truth is that his work usually means he can’t afford to look this good all the time. Part of me wonders if I’ve somehow done something wrong by listening to Leliana now. I’m not sure, but it seems this is perhaps a bit too intimate for such a situation.

At least, outside of Orlais ‘playing a game’ tends to be a less  _ familiar _ thing. I’m not sure what I was thinking. Oh well. So long as he’s at ease and comfortable, that’s enough for me. He’s busy explaining the rules, and I can see a slight blush. Not sure why. Nothing about this seems like it should be embarrassing. 

The wine is weak for my taste, but it’s not mine that I’m supposed to be concerned about. Something about the whole picture takes me back. A girl named Clara, some important person’s daughter. The grown ups talking in the den, and Clara took my hand, dragging me out to the yard to show me her dolls, tried to see if I wanted to play. 

I had very little imagination then, evident by the way I sort of made it march and jump rather than walk and sit. I must not have done it the way she expected by the way she took it away, running off in tears, sobbing about how mean I was that I didn’t play right. At the time, I thought very little of it. I hadn’t liked her, and I didn’t give much concern to just how she felt about it. 

This sort of felt like that. Only this time I want to make a conscious effort to make sure that I don’t play with his dolls the wrong way, I feel like I’d ruin a chance to get to know him better if I don’t do this right. I watch his play, and I’m still not entirely sure what I’m expected to do, so I mirror his action on my side, huffing a small sigh. 

I have a feeling this isn’t a quick game like those Starling favors. She likes card games, but quick ones that can be stopped comfortably at a moment’s notice. This has the feel that it’s going to take a while. I have no head for this, so I just mirror each move he makes, allowing him to take pieces off the board without question. For all I know he could well be cheating and I would never know. 

I’m unsure what to say now that he’s here, and instead resort to just filling the cups when they’re empty and glancing to him on occasion. I can’t even remember the last time I did this. Must have been a few years ago I had the nerve to invite someone over. As I recall he was quiet too. Didn’t say a word that I can recall aside from the odd comment about how he liked my lantern, or how I looked like I could use a new pillow, the one I had chewed apart in places by rats. 

“So…” I manage, nothing planned to follow it up with.

Instead, I sigh, ruffling my hair a bit. I don’t care so much if it messes it up a bit. I’m not certain what to say, or even what to do aside from poorly attempting to start a conversation. I want to know about him, but I’m not the sort who happens to be used to asking questions. I tip my head back, finishing another cup before filling it back up. 

I imagine everyone who put in for this night staring at me in wordless disappointment. It doesn’t really hurt as much as I think it’s meant to in my head, but it does make me wonder. I’m curious if he’s beginning to feel like it was a waste of his time to drop by tonight, and I’m torn between continuing to make the poor man suffer through the silence and my inability to understand what exactly the goal is, and just saving him the trouble and calling the night here. 

Of course my mother would be overjoyed to hear that. 

“Come home, then! If you can’t find someone, we can do that for you. Why not Lord So-and-So’s lovely daughter? She’s only a year or so older, I hear she plays the violin and speaks four languages. You could certainly do worse. If you’re to take over, you really  _ should _ think of settling down and planning your future. What happens when you go, no wife, no heirs?” She’d surely say. 

I guess if the Inquisition doesn’t end up killing me before it’s over and I’m still like this, it might be my only option. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible, but to me it sounds just dreadful. I almost think I’d rather eat my own boiled hand than suffer that fate. 

I’m almost begging for a knock at the door just then, any interruption would do to save me from making a total fool of myself. I suspect the way he looks at me is much the same. Hoping someone he knows will come and rescue him. He almost looks a bit miserable and I’m entirely sure it’s my fault. My mind considers resigning just to escape if I end up making some grave mistake. 

There’s no way he’s interested in me, I tell myself. I start thinking of someone else who might be better suited to entertain him. Someone funny, and charming, sort of like a Varric, but better. Someone more honest and less...me. I’m pretty sure he’s actually winning, but again I have no idea. 

I still can’t come up with a single thing to say, so I fall back on cliche things I’m certain I already know that he’s probably tired of hearing.

“So you’re a healer. That must be fun.” “Where are you from?” “Certainly have interesting friends. How did you happen to meet?” 

Things like that. If nothing else, I remind myself I’ll be leaving again in a few days, and it’s probably going to keep me away for a time. Usually does. There’s comfort in knowing at least Falcon will be suffering too. I consider that too. He wants my advice? I’ve got good advice for him. Forget her entirely, maybe we’re just not meant for more than this. Besides, surely his clan expects him to bond with one of their own, and he’s probably better off for it. He wouldn’t hate it as much as I would, and she’d probably be really into him, plague his clan with little baby versions of himself. 

Shit, by the time I come back, he might well have forgotten all about me and made new friends to talk to. I still haven’t figure out what it is he wants, let alone what  _ I  _ want from this. 

Leliana knows me well. She knows I’m like as not to sabotage things just so I can claim that I just have nothing in common with anyone, that I’m absolutely fine on my own and that’s completely alright with me. I’m half surprised her senses haven’t gone insane and she’s not knocking down my door to stop me from doing something I’ll regret. 

“I’m sorry, this must be very boring for you.” I say finally. “As I said there’s not much here, and I’m afraid I’m not used to entertaining guests.” I explain. 

It’s hard to tell exactly what he’s thinking. Most people are simple to read, but I can’t figure out a thing with him. I suppose it might be better that way, just in case he’s thinking how ridiculous I seem now compared to the other day. Forcing a smile, I lend my attention to the floor. I never really blamed anyone for walking out, told myself it would be the same with Elias, regardless of at what point he walks off. 

Best now than later when I have a chance to get attached, probably. I tap my fingers on my knee, gesturing to him with my other.

“You look good. Don’t think I’ve seen you in this one before. A good color for you.” I tell him honestly. “You cut quite a handsome figure.” 

I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least show I paid attention and that for what my opinion might be worth, do absolutely approve. 

I can’t stop hearing Leliana nagging me in my mind, and I nod to the flowers. 

“I got those with you in mind, if you like them, they’re yours. You deserve something half as pretty to look at as yourself.” I tell him. 

I’m supposed to be the best at what I do am I half wonder if all the concern over Falcon being a total failure at his attempt made me believe I’m somehow cursed. Well, I might be, but that doesn’t mean I have to give up so quickly. 

His game makes no sense to me, but I’m certain I know enough of him that I can still make this work. Though I do wish I had some flashy trick I could feasibly do to impress him, short of accidentally destroying part, of not all of the village with one of my only two even slight bits of uncontrolled magic. I feel like that would have the opposite effect, and might instead only upset him and create more work.

“Seggrit doesn’t sell flowers, I guess. Had to go to the Hinterlands to find them, but they’re very nicely grown. Some quiet fellow had them. Traded them for some furs I swiped from a shipment.” I admitted. 

He knows enough about me to know at least that I don’t always keep my hands to myself, and if the room says anything, I take the things I want. It’s far from glamorous, but at least I’m certain he likes me well enough like this. More than some spoiled rich kid who could have just about anything with a snap of my fingers. If I learned anything from Varric’s long winded story, it’s that Elias has experience with the Avvar. Someone that’s grown wild like that doesn’t want to be confined to a gilded cage, even if it means being given the world or anything else he might desire on a whim. 

Hard to say what pleases a man like him, but if nothing else, I’ve got a few ideas on what I could do that he might like. I wonder if I kept my knife or if that was lost in the scuffle too...


	16. Chapter 16

This man is so adorable I think I might just die.

At first conversation is just me explaining the game before we play, the rules and which pieces move where, which pieces can go in which little squares, but then it very quickly withers into strained silence as we start to play. I’m nervous at first, almost afraid to speak. I’ve been told–repeatedly and quite often–that I talk too much. I tend to ramble when I speak, and I don’t want to bore him with needless conversation. But Piper doesn’t seem to have much to talk about either.

He’s rather awkward, with it just being the two of us, and it’s sort of charming. I rather like that about him, mostly because it’s nice to know I’m not the only awkward one in the room. With my friend Siva it was always a one sided conversation because he didn’t very much mind listening to me blather, complaining about my day, and whenever he wanted to open up, I was always sure to listen to him too. But with Piper it’s different, almost like he doesn’t know what to say to me either.

His mouth opens and closes a few times like he means to say something, but it doesn’t come out. Oh I’m sure he’s witty and charming when he has to be, like when he means to get information from someone, or if he’s prepared in advance of what to say and do, but I’m certain that Leliana prizes him more for his stealth and martial skill than any amount of social skill. He seems to be just as inept as me at this, and I briefly wonder if this was a bad idea.

I don’t want to force him to be open with me if he really doesn’t want to be, but I remember that he invited me, he wants me here, I just maybe wasn’t what he expected. Is it because I’m not trying to sleep with him? That I’m simply trying to get to know him? I don’t want to pressure him, and I don’t want to needle him for information either. There are loads of questions I could ask, like where he’s from, if he has any family, or what he did before joining the Inquisition.

But I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, and frankly, I don’t know what to do.

But I realize that insofar, I’ve really only been thinking about what I want from someone, that sadly I haven’t given enough thought to what _Piper_ wants. All this time I’ve been so wrapped up in myself and my own problems with relationships that I haven’t considered if Piper has any reservations of his own. Any reason he’s hesitant to act on his feelings. I should make that my priority before this goes any further. To be certain of what Piper needs out of this before I jump to any conclusions.

Finally, he speaks, making an effort to make small talk and asks me the typical questions, and I try my best to answer.

“So you’re a healer. That must be fun,” he says, and I can detect a hint of sarcasm.

I snort a little. “Oh sure, loads of fun,” I quip. Then I move a piece on the board. “It’s hard to really take any pride in my work when what I do is revolved around another’s pain. If I were more like you or Cullen’s soldiers and I was out there helping people _before_ they get hurt, I suppose I might feel differently, but here at Haven, all I can do is patch up the ones that have already been broken. Don’t really feel like I’m saving anyone, so much as I feel like a buzzard picking at the dead.”

He lifts a brow, and I feel like I’ve said too much. “I’ve never heard anyone describe being a healer like being a scavenger,” he says to me and I pick at my fingernails.

“Well, I just…I just mean to say it’s sort of useless.”

“Useless?”

“Well, I mean, _redundant_ , I suppose is the better word. Hard to feel like you’re saving people if people are still getting hurt,” I shrug. Then I bring my cup to my face, sipping on it, to keep from saying anything else. But then he makes another comment.

“So where are you from, originally?”

“Ferelden. My father worked for a farmer on the outskirts of Redcliffe. We lived in a one room shack on the property. At least until I came into my magic and ran away from home. That much Varric got right in his story.” Oh but I never did tell him the true version of that, did I? Gods only know what he must think of me then. “I wasn’t chased away or anything. Nor did they come to our home with torches and pitchforks. Just overheard my parents one night, discussing giving me to the Templars.”

“Oh,” Piper nods. “You’re right, that’s not nearly as dramatic.”

“No it isn’t. What about you? Where are you from?”

He hesitates, taking a drink before he answers. “The Free Marches,” he finally answers.

Instantly I want to say, ‘Really? Which part? Were you near Kirkwall? Did you get caught in the middle of the mage rebellion?’ Those sorts of things, but I refrain. I don’t want to seem too nosey. But I finally have a personal bit of information about him. Free Marches. Either lived in, or around, the City-States. Probably isn’t used to the provincial countryside of southern Ferelden or its climate. Nor the way the monarchy governs the populace. This is all probably relatively new for him still.

“So you certainly have some interesting friends here. How did you happen to meet?”

“Oh you mean like Lenna?” I say and he nods. “Oh well we met here in Haven. Poor girl has lived in this village her entire life, damned near. I don’t know how people can stand it. I guess I’m just too used to staying on the move. I’d rather pack up and go if I need to. I don’t think I could stand living in one place my entire life. Feels too much like being in a cage. I’d rather be free to move on if I wish.” And I’m rambling again. Does Piper think I’m rambling? It feels like I am.

He probably thinks I’m the most boring person in the world. My real story is not nearly as exciting or awe inspiring as the version Varric told in the Singing Maiden. In truth, I’m just another wanderer, but I happen to know some interesting people, and have seen some interesting things, but I myself am about as interesting as a lamp post. And when I’m not dithering about Haven, all I have are complaints. No wonder I haven’t made too many friends, as long as I’ve been working here.

We fall into silence once more, and concentrate on the game, Piper obviously having run out of questions to ask, and me I’m still _afraid_ to ask. Leliana said he’s a good sort, worth getting to know, but I’m starting to feel like maybe he really doesn’t want to know _me_. It could just be that I’m nervous, and therefore I’m over thinking the situation and blowing it out of proportion, but I can’t read Piper’s expressions. I can’t tell if it’s boredom, or just hesitation much like my own.

Our game of Tafl is slow going. Piper has never played and is still getting the hang of which pieces move where, and he has no strategy. He just blindly moves pieces to see what happens mostly. I can hardly blame him if he doesn’t find it all that interesting. I didn’t expect him to. I mostly just needed something for my hands to do to keep from letting them wander over _him_. I’m so tempted to just push the pieces aside and dive at him, knock the drink from his hand and let him drink me instead.

But I have to resist. I came to the realization earlier that that’s another problem I’ve had with men. I have absolutely no self control, and tend to let my urges get the better of me. I’m too quick to just jump in bed with someone without thinking it through, and without getting to know them first. Wickam was different, I suppose. At least different from the Avvar warriors I crossed paths with. Different in that it wasn’t me that regretted it later on. Rather, it was him.

But they always end the same.

I’m always a mistake.

I don’t want to be Piper’s mistake.

I can’t say I want what Lenna wants. Courting and flowers and sonnets and all that nonsense. But the chance to pursue someone romantically without it ending in complete disaster would be a good start I guess. I gaze at Piper across from me as he stares at the board before making a move, comprising in my head what I mean to say, something like, ‘I’m sorry that I’m awful, and I understand if you never invite me over again,’ when he says, “I’m sorry, this must be very boring for you.”

I blink in surprise.

“As I said, there’s not much here, and I’m afraid I’m not used to entertaining guests,” he adds, sullenly.

And suddenly I don’t feel so bad about the thoughts I’ve been having.

Obviously I’m not the only one that thinks they’re terrible at this.

And suddenly all I want to do is scoop him into my arms, nuzzle him and peck his cheek.

He’s just…he’s just too much.

Kind and sweet and delightfully obscure. He’s quiet, not in a mean way, but just thoughtful. And he seems sincere. I think once we get to know one another better, and we’re more comfortable with one another, maybe…I don’t know, maybe this could be something worthwhile. And even if he doesn’t want that, even if he only wants a night with me, nothing long term, I would be fine with that. As long as we talk it over first. Actually discuss what it is that we want from each other.

I’m about to speak when he continues with, “You look good.” He gestures to my shirt. “Don’t think I’ve seen you in this one before. A good color for you. You cut quite a handsome figure.” I blush a little at the compliment, then fight a smile at the way he blurts out words like verbal vomit. _He’s_ rambling now. Which means he’s nervous too. He points to the flowers. “I got those with you in mind, if you like them, they’re yours. You deserve something half as pretty to look at as yourself.”

I do my best to hide my smile behind my wine glass. “Seggrit doesn’t sell flowers, I guess,” he continues, drumming his fingers on his knee, almost impatiently. “Had to go to the Hinterlands to find them, but they’re very nicely grown. Some quiet fellow had them. Traded them for some furs I swiped from a shipment.” I bite my lip to keep from snickering. I think he’s waiting for me to stop him. Like, ‘Dear Gods, please help me, if I don’t shut up now I’ll say something worse.’

I set my cup down, smile at him, and reach for his hand, squeezing it. He glances up at me.

“The flowers are lovely. And…thank you,” I say.

“You’re welcome,” he tells me, and I feel him absently brush my knuckles with his thumb.

Is he even aware that he’s doing that?

“And you’re not boring,” I tell him. “Here I thought I was the one boring you,” I then admit, and he smiles a little sheepishly. “Most people tell me I talk too much, and I do ramble, and I…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t think you’re boring either,” he says. “I think you’re quite nice.”

“But I _do_ talk too much,” I say, and he chuckles, relaxing his shoulders.

“Maybe just a little,” he says, pinching his fingers together. I snort at that.

I take a deep breath, and finally ask, “Would you like to have dinner with me, tomorrow night? At…at my place?” I hide my trembling lip behind my cup, taking a small sip as I wait for a reply.

“Dinner?” he repeats, as if he hadn’t heard.

I nod a little. “I know we don’t know each other all that well just yet, but…I like you,” I admit. “I think you’re very kind, and very sweet. And I just…Stop me now if you don’t want to have anything more to do with me, I-I couldn’t blame you and I’ll understand. I mean if you’re not interested in anything romantic, I won’t get offended. You don’t have to be nice to me or anything, you can be honest. I won’t be upset. We can just forget the whole conversation if you-”

“Yes,” he interrupts. “Yes, I-I’ll have dinner with you.”

He…he said yes.

He said yes?!

Maker, Creators, Lady and the Stone, he said yes!!

A warm, fuzzy, tingly feeling washes over me when I hear that.

“Is there a cat in here?” he asks, suddenly, furrowing his brow, looking around the room and under the bed.

“What?”

“I here something that sounds like purring. Do you hear that? Is that…”

Oh Gods, am I purring?

“Uh,” I scratch my head, “Purring? Oh no, no I don’t hear any purring. Why would you hear purring? Must be the wine. Where’d you say you got it from again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the award for "Most Awkward Way Of Asking Someone Out" goes to...


	17. Chapter 17

I’m not quite sure I actually haven’t completely misinterpreted what he said. Dinner was one thing, but did I imagine he actually said  _ ‘romantic’ _ ? I might have had a bit too much to drink after all. That would mean I didn’t actually ruin everything at all, and beyond that, I haven’t just been imagining some sort of interest in that aspect? I have no idea what to make of any of this. 

I can’t help but consider it still all the way through the night. Even as I sleep it sort of lingers just in the back of my mind, and while I do sleep rather well, it’s an odd thing to think about this long, probably. He’s too obvious to be trying to spy on me so openly, I’m certain of that much. I can’t help but wonder about it a bit. 

Really it does strike me as plenty odd. Inviting someone over for dinner very specifically sounded dangerously close to being a date, and I admit I’m a little bit suspicious of it. Im weird about things like that no real reason but just a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’m pretty sure some part of the job has made me wonder if people have different motives from what they seem to be saying.

Regardless, I don’t have a reason not to go, and I do want to, I guess I’m just not used to this part either. I’m barely out of my room in the morning before Falcon assails me again.

“Hey, you said you were gonna help me!” He says instantly.

Sighing, I pull myself away from him, returning inside to grab my coin pouch. Coming out the door, I push it into his hand, curling his fingers around it. 

“What do I do with this? Do I give it to her?” He asks. 

Clearing my throat, I jerk my thumb towards the tavern with a frustrated sigh. “You’re completely inept at this.” 

“Yes, and?” 

“Take that…”

“Then what?” 

“Go to the crossroads.” 

“What do I do when I get there?” 

“There’s a tavern there.”

“I know! I buy something fancy!” Falcon says excitedly. 

“No.” I tell him. 

“Oh...well what?” 

“Ask the bartender about his special wares.” I say. 

“Yeah! I can do that. I’ll find something really great!” He says. 

Falcon is off running before I can tell him the special wares in question are the men and women that work the seedy brothel in the back. Never been there personally, but I pay attention. Figure someone there will interest him, he gets a little quality attention and maybe he forgets her so he no longer has to ask me for advice. If he does, my next trick will be convincing him to go home and find a girl. Frankly I’m not at all concerned who she sleeps with or which one gnaws on her bits for a while, but it’s unexpectedly fun to spoil it.

That’s going to take him at least a couple hours, and that’s silence I can appreciate and…

“Piper.” I hear Leliana say. 

Why always when I don’t want to be bothered? 

“Yes?” I ask. 

“How did it go?” She asks.

“I don’t know, it was fine I guess. It was just fine…” I say with a shrug. 

“You didn’t get the flowers?” She asks. 

“No, I got them. Exactly the color and kind.” I tell her.

She’s studying me, wants to figure out if I’m lying to her. She hums to herself. 

“Did you wear the red vest?” She wonders.

“I did.” I tell her honestly. 

“Went with wine, not the sort of insanity that you like, yes?” She probes.

“Yep. Regular old Antivan table wine.” I nod. 

“I don’t understand how you could have possibly messed it up…” she mutters more to herself.

“Supposed to see him again tonight.” I tell her with a shrug.

“Well, here’s what you do then…” she begins. 

“I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t go. I don’t want to show up if it’s just someone else’s idea of a fun joke. I’m not one who likes to be laughed at. “ I say with a heavy sigh.

“No, no, I remember that much quite well from the stories. Still, I don’t think anyone is planning to laugh at your expense, he’s really a nice boy. I honestly think you’ll hit it off quite well. Really, who would have put him up to it, anyway?” She questions. 

“Offering an even more exaggerated shrug, I let my arms fall with a thump. “Take your pick. Varric? Cadash? Sera? Any one of them might benefit from it if they convinced him to ask?” 

“So theoretically, say that’s true. You could still go and enjoy a nice meal and a relaxing night. If it turns out you’re right, you don’t think I wouldn’t hesitate to send the guilty party or parties as it may be all the way to the Hissing Wastes for the next year?” She tells me with a slight grin. 

I forgot just how spooky she can be. That’s at least a thought that has me more than prepared to go. If for whatever reason, I’m being tricked, at least she cares enough to take it that seriously. I suppose the alternative is probably a bit worse though, so her suggestion seems less extreme at least.

“Have you seen Falcon by any chance?” She asked then. 

“Sent him to the brothel.” I said honestly. “He’ll be gone a while.” 

“Is he having trouble too?” She questions worriedly. “No one’s bothering him?” 

“Nah, he’s competing with Sera over a girl. Figure she just wants to sleep with her, he can go find someone better for a few hours.” I tell her. 

Leliana  _ wants  _ to lecture me, to threaten to send me somewhere too, but she won’t. I know her better than that, and it would upset a certain lady with a very volcanically inclined sister.

“It works  _ both ways _ , Piper. If you’re going to treat him like that, I may have to get Miri involved, maybe have her take a trip to come see the Inquisition up close.” She threatens with an ominous smile. 

“Fine, I’ll be nicer to him when he comes back. “ I huff irritably. “Low blow, threatening me with my mother like that.” 

“Well, unfortunately it’s the only useful thing I can threaten you with. If I shipped you somewhere else, you’d just get used to it and that’s hardly punishment enough.” She says. “I threaten having to actually talk to your parents and you’ll behave.” 

“Anything else?” I ask her blankly. 

“Yes, take these reports and run them over to Cullen for me?” She asks. 

“Isn’t that usually Mags’ job?” I question. 

“It is, but he’s indisposed this morning.” She says. 

“Drinks, food, or did he finally cross the wrong guy?” 

“A bit of column A, bit of column B.” She shrugs. 

I take the reports, walking them back the way I came from, trying to ignore the almost constant clanging from everywhere out here. I stop near him, clearing my throat. He almost seems surprised to see me, mouth open like he’s about to ask where Magpie is, but he stops when I hold them out, busying himself with flipping through the pile of pages. 

“Thank you.” He says. “Did it...um...how did it go?” 

Him too, huh? I suppose everyone who knew must be really curious. 

“It went alright. I don’t think I made a  _ complete  _ muppet of myself at least.” I mutter. 

“Well that’s more than I can say.” He laughs. “I’ve never had the time or the desire to get involved to that extent. Well, maybe not  _ never _ …but it’s been…” 

He stops and his face flushed just a bit. At least I’m not the only awkward one I suppose. Must be weird to realize the men and women under your command are probably getting a lot more action than you are. Then again, I’ve snooped through the letters, both official and the kind a shy admirer might leave. He’s not short on interested parties, but I think he saves them to keep his fireplace from going out. A shame I guess? 

I suppose I’ve got a good thing going right now, I might as well stick to this little schedule. Breakfast first and then a bath, and I suppose I could stand to check into a few small errands I still need to run. I know I have to look for a few books, check with the merchants and go to the forge for a start, then I just need to go out to the woods, and then however long it takes to make what I need. 

Yeah, I imagine it shouldn’t take all that long. That in mind I head off to grab a bite to eat, trying to mentally go over my list again so I can cross it all off in the right order. Not that it specifically  _ has _ to be that way, only that it’s the most efficient method I have to keep myself to a pretty tight and linear schedule, takes discipline, good training really. 

I’ve got no idea what I’m after in the realm of clothes, only that I wanted to find something to replace some of my worn items, see if I can maybe get new boots. I don’t really have everything I need if it was something more formal, but that’s mostly all I know. What does one wear to a casual dinner? If it’s not something dreadful, heavy and uncomfortable, what do you wear? At what point does it actually become too formal or too casual? 

I know I could probably just go ask Leliana, but I’ve been around her long enough to realize it’s going to be at least an hour deciding on what shoes to wear and how to do my hair before we ever got to the rest of it. It might conceivably take an entire  _ night _ to decide on an outfit that would be complimentary to my looks, but send the right sort of signals and also be situationally appropriate.

Yes, I heard the stories growing up. Hard to believe the stories about her from the Blight, and it’s very hard to imagine that being the same woman here. I almost wonder how it is she went from the soft spoken, sweet woman from the stories ended up the calculating assassin turned spymaster for the Inquisition. 

Thinking of the possibility I might take long enough to convince him I might have stood him up has me reconsidering why I ever thought to ask her in the first place. No, I’ll pick my own clothes and make a five minute arrangement of it instead of hours upon hours of dealing with dress up for the rest of the night. I should try to hide some of it.just in case he happens to drop by, I’d hate for him to guess what it is before it’s ready. I’ve thought of one skill I learned here, actually. I never considered something we do to pass the time might ever come in handy. 

I’ve got quite some time before I have to be ready, and that thought follows me all the way to the bath, if I’m quick about the rest of my tasks I can probably have one or two done at least. Josephine would be the one to ask for help locating the particular book I need, that much I can figure things out a little more thoroughly. 

Now that I think about it, I didn’t even bother to ask any details. Is he making dinner, or is it something pre-made? If he is making it, what happens if I don’t like it? The usual protocol was suffer through it and be sure to appear pleased anyway, it’s insulting to your host, as I recall. Am I supposed to bring something? I suppose he would have told me if that was the case. Then again, if he came from a farm, odds were good he might not even  _ know _ the formalities, so I’m certain I can relax a bit. 


	18. Chapter 18

I’m in a _bit_ of a pickle here.

I invited Piper to dinner in my quarters last night without really thinking it through.

I can’t possibly invite someone to dinner when I don’t even have a table and chairs. Let alone plates and cups and other things. I have a lantern for light, and a grate filled with coal I burn to keep warm, but I don’t have any candles to set on the table, and I’m pretty sure the table is supposed to have candles. And I don’t know who to go to for help with this without the whole bloody town catching on to what I’m planning. Sera would make a joke of it, and Lenna would gossip about it.

“So how’d it go last night?” she asks me at breakfast in the mess tent as I’m mulling it over, sipping a cup. Yes, I’ve been trying to suck it up and eat in the mess tent more often. I spend too much money at the tavern, and I’ll go broke if I don’t pinch my earnings. Plus, I’ll need the money if I plan to purchase items for a dinner I didn’t really think through. So here I am in the mess tent, having been serve oatmeal, toast, and coffee. My ears flatten when Lenna asks me how my night with Piper went.

“Went well,” I chirp. “Piper is very nice.”

“And?”

“... _And_ , he’s…polite.”

She frowns at me, before pushing her eggs around on her plate.

“Sera asked me to dinner last night,” she says after a moment, and I perk up in interest.

“And?”

“... _And_ , I told her no,” she says. Well, guess the money’s out on that one. Glad I didn’t actually place a bet on it. “But I’d been thinking Falcon might speak to me again, maybe I ask me, but…I haven’t seen him at all since he brought me those flowers, and…” She slumps a little in her chair in disappointment. “Maybe I was wrong. Lady Josephine assured me he only had the best of intentions with a gift like that. Pink flowers mean the recipient is a ‘joy to behold’, and the gesture itself is very sweet.”

Piper gave me pink and white flowers.

“What do white flowers mean?” I ask, suddenly curious.

Lenna furrows her brow. “I’m not sure. But the color alone represents innocence, something to that effect.”

“Oh.”

Nothing overly romantic then. Guess I can stop sweating over that. Just something meant to be kind and sweet. Not something meaning he’s hopelessly in love with me or something. Not that I don’t want to fall in love, or for him to love me–eventually maybe–but something serious like that after only knowing one another barely a matter of days would be too much too soon, and I’d worry for his sanity. Or does he even know the meanings of the colors? Does he even care about those sorts of things?

“So you haven’t seen nor heard from Falcon, eh?”

“No, I haven’t.”

She sighs forlornly, like it’s been a whole week, instead of only a day.

“Hmm.”

I wonder, did Piper say something to him? He seems to like Lenna just fine, just as much as anyone else really, but maybe he doesn’t think she and his friend should be together, and warded him off. Or maybe he suspects Falcon only wants to sleep with her, then leave her high and dry, and gave him a tongue lashing for stringing her along, and he changed his mind about pursuing her. I’m curious of that, and I should like to ask Piper about it. Maybe later, over dinner. If dinner will actually happen.

“So when are you going out with Piper again?” Lenna asks me, and I blink.

“Uh…” I scratch my head. “Going out?”

“Yes! You know, going to do something together? You said he’s nice and all, and you had a good time with him. So do you plan to do it again?” She takes a careful sip of her steaming brew, and I stall with mine as I try to come up with an answer. I’m bad at lying. I’ve been told by others I’m bad at it. I’m far too honest, and I’m better at just not speaking than outright lying. Leliana said to me once I’d make a terrible spy because of my inability to lie.

“I might, yes,” I answer, and Lenna quirks a brow. But she doesn’t say anything. Perhaps because she doesn’t really care either way. She’s too concerned with her own problems regarding Falcon.

Evident by, “Do you think he misses me at all?”

“We’re not still talking about Piper are we, because if so, I have questions.”

“No, dummy, I meant Falcon!” She rolls her eyes at me. “Did Sister Leliana send him on a job maybe? I might not ever see him again. Perhaps I shouldn’t have waited. But Lady Josephine said it would be better to wait for him to come to me. A lady shouldn’t seem too eager.”

“I agree,” I say, setting down my coffee. “No one should be that eager, lady or not. You look too eager, you just make yourself look cheap and easy.”

“Hmph, speaking from experience?”

Maybe.

“Well, I’ve got to get to work,” I say, ducking out of conversation. I hear Lenna snort as I’m leaving.

Work is hardly a distraction. Light and easy so far today, with the occasional back ache, or sore neck. During midday meal, instead of eating, I spend my break purchasing items from Seggrit for my dinner plans tonight. The food I can handle. I’ve fended for myself for so many years, and I haven’t forgotten how to whip up a nice little stew. But the table and chairs are still a conundrum I haven’t quite solved yet. No one at Haven has a spare set I can use. Which means I’ll have to ‘borrow’ from the tavern.

That evening I sit, nursing a cup of ale, scratching my head over it while across from me Varric cuts the deck of cards he’s been shuffling. Beside him the Herald sips his own brew, and at the end of the table Blackwall quietly sits and nurses his own drink while puffing on a wooden handled smoking pipe, the smell of burnt elfroot wafting in the air around us. Sera flops down between myself and Varric at the other end of the table and sighs. Probably stewing over Lenna’s rejection.

“How do I get a table and chairs without anyone knowing?” I ponder aloud.

Varric raises a single brow questioningly.

“Piper,” Sera responds, decisively beside me.

“Okay…how do I get a table and chairs without any of Leliana’s people finding out,” I clarify for the interested parties.

“Eh, I dunno then,” Sera says with a shrug. “Steal it I guess?”

“Why are you wanting to steal a table and chairs, exactly?” Varric asks, way too curious now.

“I plan to use it,” I answer.

“But for what though?” Cadash asks.

“For…things,” I stumble to say. “Dinner.”

“With who?” Blackwall asks.

“Someone.”

“Not Wickam?”

“No, not Wickam.”

“Thank goodness.”

“So you need a table then,” Cadash nods. “Got it. And two chairs?” I nod. “Which means we need a distraction…Hey Sera.”

“What?”

“You remember that trick with the apple?”

Sera perks up. “Yeah!…Wait, no. Can’t do that again. Commander Stick-Up-His-Arse said if I shot someone’s ear off again, he’d bury me under the Chantry.” I grimace a little at the image of some soldier’s ear being torn off by one of Sera’s arrows. Blackwall sighs and shakes his head at her. “I didn’t tear off the whole thing. Just the snaggly bit that hangs. I said he’d have to find me first, then he said he’d have the scary one look.…Oh, hang on, I got it.” Sera stands up.

She guzzles down the rest of her ale and slams down the tankard, wiping her mouth, then runs and leaps onto the next table, kicking off plates and cups, dancing a jig.

The tavern is then in an uproar, that table in particular, the occupants screaming and cursing at her. Flissa throws down the rag she’s using to wipe empty tankards and shakes her pointing finger, screaming for her to get down. “Shit,” Cadash curses. “Alright we gotta move.” While all the eyes in the room are on the others, we quickly slide out of our chairs. Varric, Cadash and I go for the table, and Blackwall snatches up two of the chairs and holds the door open for us.

I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.

Stealing a fucking table and chairs from the tavern!

There are still a few people out and about, that give us the odd look or two as we pass them, shuffling up the lane, but where the Herald is involved, people tend not to question. He’s practically the mayor of the town. ‘Oh you’d like that table, sir? Here you are.’ But Cadash comes to a sudden stop halfway up the steps, causing both Varric and myself to bump into the table, and Blackwall to barrel into us. “Commander!” Cadash chirps, as Cullen gapes at us in confusion.

“What in the Maker’s name are you doing?!”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“It looks to me like you’ve stolen a table and chairs from the tavern, Herald.”

“Then…it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“Maker’s breath! What on earth do you need a table and chairs for? Would the tavern not suffice as a reasonable place to play cards?”

“Healer has a dinner date, didn’t have his own. So we’re borrowing these. I _swear_ we’ll put it back when we’re done.”

“You’re having dinner?” Cullen asks me, suddenly more curious of that than the act of thievery we’re committing.

“Yes?”

Cullen ponders that for a moment, and meanwhile this table is getting awfully heavy.

But the second passes and suddenly the Commander gets this look of realization–I don’t know what for–and he suppresses a smile. “Oh, I see. By all means then. Carry on.” He waves us off and walks away, but calls back to us, “If it’s not back by first light, I’m telling Flissa _precisely_ where she can find her missing wares. Oh, and Healer, best of luck to you both.” Why do I have this nagging feeling he knows something I wish he didn’t? Like maybe exactly who I’m having dinner with?

I sigh and urge the others onward, huffing and wheezing when we finally make it to my cabin and manage to fit the table through the door. “So, Whiskers, you ever actually done this before?” Varric asks, as we set the table in place and align the chairs.

“Done what before?”

“Had dinner with someone?”

“Well, no. I’ve made dinner, and I’ve eaten dinner. But no, I’ve never had dinner with someone else, no.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he chuckles.

“I’ve got the basics. Have food, wine, candles, dress appropriately, and try not to make an arse of myself.”

“In my experience, that just about covers it,” Cadash shrugs.

Varric shakes his head. “Well, shit, no wonder both of you are hopeless in the love department.”

“Oh yes,” Blackwall chirps from the door, puffing on his pipe. “Tell ‘em all about it then.”

“Yes, Mister _Swords & Shields_,” Cadash adds. “Tell us what we’re missing here.”

“Damn it, you guys aren’t going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope!” they chime.

“But seriously? What am I missing?” I ask them, totally at a loss for what more I should do to have proper dinner with someone.

Varric sighs, palming his face. “Alright, kid. Here’s what you do…”


	19. Chapter 19

I finally finish up my errands, testing the edge of my dagger, freshly sharpened. Was perfect for what he intended for it. Short wedges of wood stacked up on the table next to an open book sat in front of me. The chair is uncomfortable, but it’s fine enough for now. 

I’ve barely scratched off a curl or two when the door bursts open and an almost  _ hurt _ looking Falcon wanders in, closing the door before stretching out on the floor like a man about to take his dying breath. 

“You’re back earlier than I expected.” I comment. 

I’m content to mostly ignore his presence in favor of trying to focus on just which way I need to focus on first to make the right shape. Too much one way and it’ll never balance the right way. 

“It was a  _ brothel _ !” He says as if that’s something truly terrible. “Tried to show me his women, but I couldn’t. I...I can’t sleep with a woman I’ve never met.” 

I snort a little at that. “Don’t blame yourself. I couldn’t sleep with a woman if  _ she _ paid  _ me. _ Not that I haven’t seen any pretty enough, just that it does absolutely nothing for me.” 

He stares at me like he pities me for just a few moments. “That saddens me for you, my friend. Imagine looking at someone as lovely as, say Lady Montilyet and not feeling a thing. Imagine looking at someone as absolutely radiant as Lenna and not getting butterflies!” 

I think he might truly be an idiot, that one. I don’t question his taste, I suppose he has a good eye, but looks alone can hardly be enough. I like a nice face, a good body just as much as any, but it’s the interesting types that get my attention. I guess that means Elias must be that type for me to be putting this much effort into something made with him in mind. Little wood shavings pile on the table bit by bit, and while it certainly isn’t pleasing to look at just yet, it’s at least slowly beginning to take shape. 

“What are you making?” He asks, distracting himself from his woes. “I haven’t seen you do that in months. What was it last time? Was it a bunny?” 

“It was a bear. For the little girl in the Hinterlands.” I mutter. “The one who lost her stitches one.” 

He nods, but I can tell he barely remembers her already. I don’t blame him, it’s not like we spent more than a week that time. Subsequent trips had naturally been longer, but I’ll be only too happy if I don’t have to see another blasted bear any time soon. 

“So you never told me what this is?” He asked. 

“I’m practicing on these little pieces first before I attempt a life size bust of the Commander. I thought to capture such militaristic grace in lifelike realism.” I lie. 

Falcon sits up finally, taking a look at what little I’ve managed to accomplish, scrutinizing it thoroughly for several minutes. Finally, he stares at me, raising a brow. “I don’t think his neck is quite that thick.” 

It isn’t meant to be him, but I’m not feeling quite so charitable as to point that out. I simply nod and add in a long ‘ahhh…’ like I’m appropriately studying it. I’m not, of course. 

“Looks like you’re right. Guess I’ll have to make something else with this one.” I say as if incredibly reluctant. 

“Why not his  _ horse _ instead?” He suggests. “See right there? It looks more like a horse anyway.” 

That actually  _ was _ the intent, but he’s overlooked the book entirely, so he likely didn’t even consider that was my intent from the first. Maybe not Cullen’s horse  _ specifically.  _ Though I have indeed  _ seen _ it. If I cared to ride horses, I might be a tad jealous. It’s a fine steed, befitting a man of his station. 

“Now  _ there’s  _ a thought!” I say, carefully cutting back the sarcasm. “You certainly are creative.” 

“Don’t I know it. See we have the finest craftsman among any clan.” He brags. “Perhaps I’ve got his eye for the finer details.”

Now I definitely don’t dare point out the farce. It’s more entertaining if I let him believe he was right than if I deflate his poor ego. 

“Sounds impressive. I’m certain Lenna will enjoy your tales.” I tell him. A subtle hint that I’d like him gone now. He, of course doesn’t get it. “I’m certain you must want to see her.”

Falcon heaves the heaviest sigh I’ve ever heard from him, and he buries his face in his arms against the floor. His words are muffled just enough that I actually have to strain to hear him properly. 

“What’s the use. She’s probably already off with the child.” He huffs.

I don’t have to ask to realize he means Sera. I’ve looked at what little was available on her. She’s in her earlier twenties, about a year, maybe two older than I am. If anything that means he’s about two or three older than her. He’s quick to remind me I should listen to him, he has  _ life experience.  _ I’m not the most well versed in Dalish ways, another thing I largely ignored at home, I do know he  _ hates _ being called ‘hahren’and therefore I opt to do it when he gets too annoying. 

“Well, I imagine she’s probably at least more fun than you are, you mopey shit.” I lecture him. 

“You said you were going to help me.” He pouts. 

“You want help? Go over to her, tell her ‘I’d like to take you somewhere nice. Then if she says yes, you take her anywhere but your room, the mess hall or the tavern.” I tell him clearly. 

“Well that doesn’t leave much.” He huffs. 

“Take a walk with her by the lake, show her some of the old towers, somewhere that’s not here where she  _ always  _ is.” I grunt. 

Despite his whining, I think I’ve managed to finish one. Even testing it on the table, it doesn’t tip over, so I guess that means it must be alright. There’s small bottles of paint and a cheap brush that will do decently at what I need it for. I’ll wait to paint until I’ve finished the other. I figure I have enough time to finish this and one more before I should take off. 

“Come to think of it, I guess there has to be someone here with more experience in this stuff than you. If you weren’t so smart I’d ask someone else. Least your advice sounds reasonable.” He mutters. 

“I wish you  _ would _ ask someone else.” I huff indignantly.

“Yeah, but you’re like my only friend, so I don’t know anyone I’d rather ask.” He admits quietly. 

Poor guy. To have to claim me as his only friend. I don’t know that I’ve ever really considered him  _ my _ friend, but he’s not completely awful, at least. 

“Seriously. Offer to take her somewhere interesting.” I reiterate to him. “If I had to be cooped up here day in and day out, anywhere would seem a palace by comparison. We’re fortunate enough to get to see more than most, use what we’ve seen to your advantage.” 

“I guess there were some pretty interesting places. Much safer now that it’s been cleared out too. Maybe a picnic or something? I can’t cook though. Guess there is that vendor from Orlais, bet she has something good.” He mutters more to himself than me. 

While he’s off in his own world, I get started on the second carving, looking up every so often less so I can see if Falcon has finally left than to keep some sort of track on the time. I’ve still got time, thankfully. I’m not even completely dressed yet. Now that I’ve done it once, the second goes a bit quicker. I get the paints and set about to the first, putting it aside to dry before tending the second. When I’ve finished that, I stand up to finish dressing when I spot him out of the corner of my eye. He’s still muttering to himself. 

“Wonder if they have those fancy tarts…” he sighs.

“I’m getting dressed, might want to go.” I warn him. 

“Oh I don’t care, that’s hardly the issue right now.” He says, still appearing to be focused on the same spot of wall. “Maybe something to drink. Is that appropriate for such an outing?”

He wouldn’t notice if a ballroom full of naked women waltzed by him let alone what I’m doing. That in mind I turn away from him and change into my cleanest outfit tossing the old one's across the room. The ‘thwump’ doesn’t even cause him to stir. Not that I expected anything less I suppose. Good thing I’m not trying to seduce him or I suppose I’d be completely crushed. As it stands I’m more annoyed that he’s invading my space to sound ideas off against the wall.

I fall back in my bed for a bit, reaching for a glass of tea I’d left forgotten earlier, uncaring that it had long gone cold. Still tastes just fine, and it’s a few minutes I can use to completely ignore my comrade’s presence. I don’t even bother paying enough attention to be able to say definitely if he’s still talking to the wall or not, but he’s still there. I can see bits of silver in my line of vision. Once I finish my tea, I get up again to toss it aside to wash later. I lean against the table long enough to test the paint. Seems dry enough if the absence of spots on my fingers tells me enough. 

It’s close enough I’d imagine to time for me to head out. I’m torn between telling him to kindly piss off and do something about his problems for himself or just leaving him to sit there until he finally realizes that he’s all by himself and wanders off. Actually, that one sounds like it has more potential, gathering up the carvings, I close the door behind me, peering in the window just long enough to confirm it didn’t phase him at all. 

I’ve never formally been shown the way to his place, but I’ve seen the village layout on paper, who or what each place is for. That’s how I knew my place wasn’t being used for anything and that no one would care if I took it over. Naturally I know which place he stays in. Don’t want to be so obvious as to have to ask around as it is. 

It’s a few minutes across the camp to get there, but I stop just about halfway. Staring down at the carvings for a bit, I wonder if it’s wise to follow through or if it would be better to back out now and claim I was called away unexpectedly. Some part of me still wonders if someone put Elias up to this, and if it doesn’t play into some odd bit of humor to see this through. 

I suppose it really doesn’t matter one way or the other. If it is a trap of some kind, I should just be glad I’ll not be here much longer to have to endure the jokes. If it isn’t, then I guess that’s a good enough outcome. As much as it could be amusing to see someone get shipped off to the Wastes, it’s less troublesome if that’s not the case. Sighing quietly, I head for the door. I didn’t really think to bring anything, but I didn’t come completely empty handed at least. 

Rather than taking after my colleague, I opt to knock rather than just walk in. Besides, I’d never hear the end of it if anyone ever found out. Awful manners to walk in like you own the place, regardless if you’ve been invited or not. I don’t apply that to my baser hobbies, however. In those cases, a lock is practically an invitation in my eyes. That’s relatively normal in my profession, being fair. I take a moment to imagine whether or not he’ll appreciate the gift, a bit sloppy though it may be. 


	20. Chapter 20

Varric, Blackwall, Cadash and I set up the table, borrowing one of the clean linen sheets meant for my bed to use as a table cloth. We light candles, set out plates and cups and whatnot, and it almost starts to look like a _real_ fancy dinner. Blackwall snickers, puffing on his pipe as Varric goes over the rules of proper dining etiquette, while nearby Cadash lifts the lid of the stew pot bubbling over the grate. “This smells good,” he comments. “So what are you guys having for dinner?”

“Nug stew,” I say, and Blackwall coughs. Varric sighs.

“Oh no,” he says, hanging his head.

“Oh no, what?” I ask, suddenly fearful that I might’ve made a mistake.

“Don’t tell Leliana what you’re eating,” he says. “The spy likes to keep those things as pets.”

“Maker’s hairy ass,” Cadash laughs. “She’d slit the poor kid’s throat.”

“Good Gods,” I gasp. She likes to keep nugs as pets?! “Well, that explains all the glaring.”

Blackwall chuckles. “She knows you’re a cat,” he says. “Can’t really be helped.”

“Yes it can!” I squeak. “For fuck’s sake, had I known this, I wouldn’t have made the damned stew!”

“Too late now, I guess,” Varric shrugs. “But I guess what matters more is whether your _date_ will mind nug stew. Would help if we knew who you were making it for.”

My ears flatten. “Ugh, fine. I’ll tell you. But this better not go anywhere. I’m having dinner with Piper.”

“The scout?” I nod at that. “You sure he’s not just trying to get information out of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean to say, he’s one of Leliana’s people. He’s probably wining and dining you for information for his employer.”

“What? No! I’m the one that asked him to dinner. He didn’t ask me.”

“You sure that isn’t just what he wanted, Whiskers?”

I think about that for a moment.

Is what Varric says possible? Would I even know if he were tricking me? Leliana’s trained her people well, to be masters of deception. Was the shy, nervous way Piper had been acting the night before just an act? Is he just trying to get me to let down my guard so I’ll spill all my secrets? Leliana had lots of questions after what happened in the Fallow Mire, questions regarding my past, and maybe she’s using Piper to worm the information out of me?

I don’t have anything to hide from people, but does Leliana suspect there’s more to my tale than what she already knows?

Does the Inquisition not trust me still, even after all this time?

I try to hide my disappointment from the others and shrug it off, saying, “Oh well, too late now. I’m sure either way we’ll have a good time.”

“Best of luck to you, kid,” the Herald says, patting me on the back, then he and his companions leave.

After they’re gone and the door shuts behind them, I let my disappointment show, picking at my finger nails. I suppose it could be worse. Being used for juicy bits of intel is a far cry from being used for sex, I guess. At least it’s a new game, rather than the same old hat I’ve grown accustomed to. And Piper is very handsome. Having dinner with him is still an opportunity to gaze upon that beautiful face of his one last time before he high tails it back to the spymaster with my secrets.

But I can’t help but get this painful twist in my gut at the thought of Piper not really being interested in me. My chest tightens, and suddenly I feel like I can’t breathe. Tears prick my eyes, and threaten to fall. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I know I don’t like this feeling. I quickly wipe my eyes and distract myself with deciding what I’m going to wear. Only now does the thought come to mind that I should’ve asked Lenna to make me something new for tonight.

I throw on my black samite tunic with the loose, billowy sleeves, then pull my hair back in a braid. I’ve just finished with the task when I hear someone knock on the door. My heart pounds in my chest at the sound. I think at first it’s Piper, but I open the door to see Commander Cullen standing there, holding a stack of reports, as if he meant to deliver them. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Cullen asks me, peering around my shoulder to see the dining table all set up.

“No, sir. He hasn’t arrived yet. Was there something you needed?”

“Yes. I meant to inform you that the Herald will be leaving soon to seek aid in closing the Breach,” he tells me, to which I nod. Yes, it’s been the talk of all Haven for several weeks now. The question of whether or not the Inquisition would seek the help of the rebel mages in Redcliffe, or instead try to negotiate with the Templars at Therinfal Redoubt. “I want you with them, just as a precaution,” he explains. “In case negotiations fail, they may need a skilled healer in their party.”

“Of course,” I mumble with a nod.

“You’ll be traveling with the other attendants and make camp in the outskirts, at a safe location near the fortress. I have the details of your assignment here.” He hands me one of the documents he carries. I glance over it. The writing is neat and orderly, thankfully not cursive, but still difficult to make out some of the longer words. “You know,” he comments, “I could have someone here at Haven assist you with your reading, Healer. I’m aware you haven’t had many opportunities to learn.”

“I’ve been managing,” I say, and he nods a little at that.

“Still, should you require it, I’m sure Lady Josephine knows someone that would be adequate for the task.”

I sigh a little. Hearing that makes me sound like an invalid. And also makes me feel incredibly stupid.

It’s not Cullen’s fault, of course, but it’s just how I feel.

“They tried to teach me at Stone-Bear,” I admit, and he raises a brow, finding the information curious. “They’re not quite as barbaric as the rest of the known world makes them out to be, you know. They teach all their children to read. When they found out I barely knew my letter, they thought to teach me too. The problem is not for lack of learning, the problem is me. I just couldn’t ever get the hang of it like others. Even…even when I was little, I couldn’t keep up with my younger brothers.”

I don’t know why I just admitted to all that to the Commander, but maybe it’s just because he’s trying to be helpful, isn’t being judgemental or poking fun at me.

“Still, it’s amazing that you’ve come this far, after everything you’ve experienced,” he remarks, and I smile a little.

“I suppose it is,” I shrug. “Thank you, sir. And goodnight to you.”

“You as well,” he says, and leaves my doorway, walking back down the path toward the main gate of Haven, headed to the training yard just beyond.

After reading and rereading the slip of parchment regarding my assignment, I crumple the paper and toss it aside.

Who am I kidding.

Piper would probably laugh at me if he knew I struggled to read.

He’s significantly younger than me. I don’t suppose any of the others here at Haven can tell, but from one elf to another, it’s not that hard to see he’s probably only twenty or so, if even that. Maybe even younger. He acts older than he is, for whatever reason doesn’t want people see just how young he is, but I myself can tell the difference. Though he is extremely intelligent for his age. How embarrassing would that be to learn someone likely ten years his senior reads no better than a child?

The more I think about it, the more I’ve convinced myself that the others are right, and he has no more interest in me than he has to, in order to get information from me, that Leliana might use to blackmail me with later on. He is a spy, after all, and he gets paid to fool people. Maybe Leliana’s word to me about him were only so that I’d let down my guard around him. Make it all that much easier for him to pull the wool over my eyes and sweep the rug from under my feet.

I try to put on a happy smile when yet again someone knocks on the door, and this time it’s Piper, but I don’t think the smile quite reaches my eyes. Maybe he’ll just chalk it up as nervous anxiety about the evening. This is our first romantic dinner together. The first romantic dinner I’ve _ever_ had with any man. I open the door for him, see his own tentative smile and let him in the room. “These are for you,” he says, holding out items he’d been hiding behind his back.

My heart melts at the sight of them. Two little carved wooden horses that have been painted that he sets in my hands. They fit right in my palms. “They’re beautiful,” I smile, and this time it’s a genuine smile. The Inquisition has horses, but these aren’t quite like them. They have black and white stripes of war paint like the mounts the Avvar use here in the south. He must’ve gotten the images from books, because there are no Avvar mounts here at Haven, or anywhere I imagine.

I carefully place them on the nightstand by my bed, absently petting them like they’re real horses. Oh I’ll probably give them names too. Maybe even prance them around on my bed when I can’t sleep. I don’t remember having toys when I was little, and if I did, they were things made from sticks and leaves and whatever else I could find. Maybe I’m still a child at heart, because I never got to have a proper childhood like some. Not even by elven standards, I suppose.

I turn back to Piper and invite him to sit at the table, pulling the chair out for him, just as Varric instructed. He raises a brow at the gesture, but says nothing and sits down. I take the stew and place it on the table. “That smells good,” he says. “What is it?”

“Uhm…” I fidget nervously. “Nug stew?”

His brows go up. “Whatever you do, don’t tell the spymaster,” he tells me. “She’ll probably kill you.”

I sigh and nod sadly. “So I’ve been told. But it’s the only thing here at Haven to hunt really. That, and druffalo, but someone might notice if _they_ started disappearing.”

“Probably,” Piper agrees, and I ladle out some stew for him, and pour a cup of wine. It’s nothing fancy, only what I could afford, but I’ve tried a sip of it already and it’s not half bad. Nothing that will get us too drunk too quickly before we’ve had a chance to enjoy our evening together. Things are quiet at first, as Piper and I start eating, tearing off bits of a loaf of bread to dip in the stew. I should make conversation. That’s what Varric said. ‘Supper is what you eat. But _dinner_ is for more than just food.’

Meaning we should eat but also get to know one another in the process.

A thought occurs to me that maybe this will test out whether or not Piper’s just using me for information or not. If he is, then all he’ll concern himself with is talking about me, and he’ll redirect conversation away from himself. But if it’s more than that, if he truly wants to get to know me for other reasons beside Leliana’s reasons, then maybe he’ll open up if I ask questions. “So, uh, tell me about yourself,” I say, dabbing my lip with a napkin. Piper looks up.

“Uhm, what would you like to know?”

“Anything you’ll tell me,” I say.

“Uh, there isn’t much to tell, really,” he evades.

“Well, surely there’s something,” I shrug. “I know you work for Leliana, but what about before that? What brought you to the Inquisition?”

“It’s…not really all that interesting,” he says.

I sigh. Then I set down my fork, and reach across the table for Piper’s hand where it rests.

“I’m not one of Lady Josephine’s nobles,” I tell him. “I don’t have any sort of angle, or hook. I’m not just fishing for information to use against you. I’m not trying to play games with you, Piper. I just want to get to know you. I understand Leliana’s reasons for things. And I know everyone has their secrets to keep. But I have no reason to use your past against you, if you want to share it. I’m not a spy. And I don’t gossip about people either. I’m just the healer. I’ve nothing to hide. You don’t have to hide from me either.”

Maker, Creators, Lady and the Stone, but I _hope_ he doesn’t.


	21. Chapter 21

I can’t stop my eyes from wandering, for once not on him. On the surroundings, in fact. For such a hasty invite, this seems well put together. Not that I don’t doubt his capabilities, far from it for me to question what he can and can’t do, but somehow it manages to reinforce the idea that someone put him up to this. Not just that but someone had to help. Even covered, I recognize the knife marks on the leg. From the tavern, Flissa might well be annoyed. 

He’s made nug, of all the bounty in these lands, and he says it’s only druffalo. I realize he’s a healer, but I’ve gotten quite decent on the hunt, largely when my companions tear through their rations like wild beasts and it then falls to me to hunt a ram or a goat. Or on occasion dragonlings. I don’t bother mentioning it, not and risk insult to what is actually a pretty decent thing for Haven’s poor standards. 

Not a noble, he says. I’m glad for it. I am just that and I’ve gone to such lengths to show I’m nothing if not some possibly very resourceful starveling from some Maker forsaken wasteland. It serves me better than a title ever has. I feel like being evasive with my answers might be off-putting to him, so, against my better judgment I decide to indulge him with a few details that are of little enough consequences.

“Free Marches. Nowhere of consequence, I’m certain. Just spent the last few years wandering the world with a traveling act.” I tell him. “I’ve a number of interesting talents that made my presence in the troupe invaluable.” 

“What exactly did you do there?” He asks after a moment. 

I offer a lazy one-shouldered shrug. “This and that. I’m surprisingly twisty. Comes in handy when a hulk of a Qunari is preparing to run you through with swords. I’ve also done my share of precarious acts involving thin rails, beams and an assortment of rope. I’m no stranger to risk to life and limb, but I never questioned it once. I enjoyed it.” Pausing to take a sip, I continue. “I’ve also on occasion wrestled bears, and other such oddities. Of course, Scruff and Bramble are well trained. Rescued as cubs.” 

Considering he’s a healer and not, in fact, a cool, the stew isn’t bad, though again I have to wonder if perhaps Leliana  _ might _ come flying in, surely she can just  _ sense _ some poor, defenseless nug was snuffed out. I myself don’t care one way or the other for them, but I know she  _ does _ . As a policy, there’s even been a time or two when my job was entirely to go check on her nugs for her. She doesn’t often trust others with them readily. 

“Where has the time gone that I’ve got to set out soon…” I grumble under my breath. 

It isn’t at all the work, so much as I’m not overkeen on having to play babysitter to grown soldiers. I shouldn’t be needed for this when the buckets can do it fine by themselves. Still, if the Commander wishes me to accompany and hold their hands so they don’t hurt themselves I will. It’s that or risk upsetting my boss, and for more reasons than most, that’s an all too terrifying thought. 

I can’t really be sure if he’s nervous because he’s as bad at these matters as I appear to be, or if I’m right and he simply is no spy as he said and whoever wanted this to happen have him nervous about getting caught. The question is whether or not I’m just suspicious of his true intentions, enough to perceive some grand scheme to make a fool of me, or if I’m just imagining the entire thing because I’m still not too keen on the idea of holding my breath. 

_ Romantic,  _ he calls this. But in my experience, however limited, romance is often just a prettier way of talking someone into bed. Still, it’s been this long, had that been his goal I’m certain he’d have already said something. I suppose that leaves me with ‘he’s not really interested’, ‘we’re just friends and it came out wrong’ or instead ‘I actually am interested.’ 

His face suggests something else is going on though. Not just the nerves he’s got on full display, but something beneath it. Something I can’t quite understand, but I’m certain he’s looking at me like  _ I’m  _ the suspicious one. What exactly have I done to be suspicious aside from just doing my part? Thinking to regale him with a few stories, not that all are true, naturally, but maybe it could reveal something useful. 

“Had to investigate this little shack once. Middle of nowhere. Been told there were probably demons. Was just an artist or something like that. Skin was all purple because he gardens for his pigments, and he forgot about it, wiped it all over and apparently just  _ looked _ like a desire demon, from a distance.” I said. 

He’s quiet again and I can’t tell if he’s just listening or if maybe he’s just waiting for me to stop talking. Unsure, I keep talking. 

“Another time we had to stop raiders from attacking a nearby...well, you can’t even really call it s  _ village _ . Too small. Well the one is distracted and I’ve got this one cornered. He takes a go at me, and I ended up killing him with a horseshoe of all things.” 

“I’m terrible with horses. I know how to care for them, and I can ride fine, but for some reason they’re not fond of me in general.” 

Stopping myself, I pick at the stew a bit and distract myself with the drinks for a bit. I roll it back and forth for a bit before I pick it back up. I’ve never cared much for small talk. Resorting to a conversation about the weather or some such idle chatter has me ready to die of pure boredom. Even as a child the constant need to fill silence with meaningless noise was an irksome thing. Manners, yes. Polite, very, but to actually take a noted interest in such mundane things seems a waste of time. 

I’m not sure what to talk about with Elias. I think he liked my gift, so that’s a good thing. Never seen a steed like those in the Frostbacks, but at least if the pictures were wrong, he’s too nice to tell me. They’re not perfect, but decent enough for one who doesn’t often use the skill. Regardless of what the truth may be, I can’t deny I’m still quite interested in him, and I’m content to figure out the truth of it for myself no matter the answer. Still, much as it might not seem like it, some things are still ingrained, and I opt not to interrupt just to grill him a bit to find out who it was who helped him. 

“This is nice.” I tell him. “Honestly a bit surprised that this is actually possible in a place like this. Don’t think I’ve been treated to something this nice since the last time I made it to Starkhaven.”

It’s not all that shocking of a thing to say. I’ve been all over before the Inquisition. Been to a few new places since I’ve joined though. Seen things I’ve never happened upon before, and while I’m better educated in history than perhaps many of those in the service of this outfit, I often opt  _ not _ to mention the different external influences I’ve seen, largely Tevinter, ancient. Still, mention that place in the wrong company and you’re certain to elicit nothing but fear and mistrust, well before you get the chance to mention how old the touches are. 

“It wasn’t a date or anything. Just a business arrangement. Wouldn’t be interested I’m sure. Even the elves there are a bit too preachy for my taste. Pretty as they might sound.” I clarify, realizing it must sound like I’m reminiscing about some past entanglement. “I don’t typically get many opportunities to get to know people quite that well.” 

Really I just don’t want him to imagine I just travel and work and have endless strings of brief encounters. Despite Leliana’s encouragement to learn to trust  _ someone,  _ I find that people aren’t too keen on getting close if they think you’re just interested in the information, or if they happen to believe everything you might say is a lie. In their defense, I’m good at that. Wouldn’t be a surprise to find most don’t trust me either. As it should be. 

Elias nods behind his drink, and I again distract myself with the room. He went to some trouble to put all this together, and quickly. It’s a bit impressive, really. Gives off a similar atmosphere to some of the places I’ve seen in my travels. Loving couples staring into each other’s eyes over a woven basket of bread and a bottle of wine, softly lit candles and every eye elsewhere like they’re alone rather than in a crowded establishment. 

Among the hierarchy of Leliana’s little birds are those who watch, those who dig and those who kill. The best do all three. Surprisingly, Falcon is one such specialist. I am too. I don’t usually get deployed as a weapon, but I have on occasion been tasked with killing someone. I remember one such case, a crooked noble who took his scheming just a bit beyond an acceptable limit, crossed the wrong people one time too many. The fool had chosen a lone table on a balcony, private. Him and some woman if not heard of. Probably just met her, I know she never saw me, but that reaction stayed with me. A consequence of going against your own conscience. Thinking on that has me feeling a bit thoughtful.

“Sometimes, it’s important to go against your gut. It might not always feel right, but never lose sight of your own values.” I sigh. “Never think it foolish to weigh your options carefully, though. Scrutiny of the details is not a fault but a smart thing.” 

I almost regret getting so serious, but at the same time, it’s also advice I wished I’d had from the start. Still it must seem odd to just spout something so random. Rather than apologizing, I shake my head and instead smile. 

“Thank you. For the invitation, I mean. If nothing else, it’s a fine thing to get away at times.” I tell him. 

I do appreciate the effort, whatever the reason might be, and it’s well that I haven’t made enough of an ass of myself to incur his anger, though I can’t help but feel like this must be excruciating. Not for me, I know I can at times be awkward, but more to him for having to tolerate my fumbling attempts to make this go smoothly.

Although I again find myself lingering on the fact I’ll be leaving soon, and the absence might serve me well. If I leave a bad impression, the time away may lessen his disdain for me. If it goes well, however, I wonder if he’d lose that interest if I leave. There’s no question that whatever the result is, I intend to go. I’ve got no reason to refuse, and no desire to resign as if I have something I’m eagerly missing back home. 

“The Herald, Cadash, he’s your friend right? Guess he’s made his mind up.” I say conversationally. “Does it get lonely here when most are out on duties? Or is it nicer then because there’s fewer injuries for you to tend?” 

I’m no healer. I can’t imagine how an influx of patients must feel, or any sense of relief that comes with absence of charges. I don’t usually get lonely myself, but with only the sisters and a few with no use on the field, some nobles? It must be well enough like being completely alone...


	22. Chapter 22

_**Elias** _

So I think the night is going well at first, until Piper starts speaking. Just as I predicted, he’s evasive in answering any personal questions. Mentions nothing of his family either. But the stories he tells me about the various missions he’s been on keep my interest. At least, that is to say they keep me from upending the table in an outrage. But I’m quite certain at this point it’s all a trap. That what Varric said is true, and Piper is only using me for information.

He turns the subject back around to me with, “Does it get lonely here when most are out on duties? Or is it nicer then, because there’s fewer injuries for you to tend?”

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first. I distract myself with a bite of stew for a moment, before coming up with an answer. I know it will only lead to more questions, and then yet _more_ questions, until Piper finally has the answers he’s looking for. I could blow the whole thing wide open right this instant, and let him know I’m on to his game, but maybe it might be better to just end the night on a more polite and cordial footing.

I’d hate to say something cross to Piper only to incur Leliana’s wrath. I’m probably already on her hit list with my carnivorous eating habits. I shouldn’t make it worse.

Finally I shrug and say, “To be honest, I would much prefer tending the wounded. The soldiers that go out and fight are deserving of my attention. They put their lives on the line for all of us. I’d much rather tend to them. Otherwise it’s just batty old clerics complaining of the sniffles, as if their ailments are so much more important.” Piper raises a brow at all that. “And before you ask, no, I’m not Andrastian, and so I don’t rightly care if I offend those wrinkly old biddies.”

He chuckles a little. “Understandable,” he says, then takes a sip of his drink.

“But… I wouldn’t say it’s all that lonely. I mean, this is already more people than I’m used to. I’ve always been alone. It’s always been just me.” Oh Gods, now I just sound so pathetic, don’t I? “Not that I’m complaining. It’s just what I’m used to.”

“But what about the Avvar?” Piper then asks.

“Ah yes, there’s them, of course,” I concede. “The Avvar don’t mind magic so much as other humans. They have their own rules, of course, their own ideas on right and wrong, but they’re not like the Chantry. On the rare occasion I’d come in contact with them, they were quite welcoming, despite the fact that I’m not even human. I suppose it’s just because I understand them.” Piper gazes at me questioningly, like he doesn’t quite get what I mean by that. But I don’t want to say.

I already feel like I’ve said enough.

“So, do have any family in Ferelden?” I ask him, forcing the topic back around to him, and he fidgets for a moment. Then he slowly shakes his head.

“No,” he says.

“All in the Free Marches then?”

“Uh, yes. That’s where they are, yes.”

“So what are they like?”

This is the sentence that ruins it, I think. He sets his fork down, preens a few strands of hair from his face in an irritated manner, and I think I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally found the line I shouldn’t have crossed. Discussing his family. I’ve caught him in a few minor, harmless little white lies before, so I can tell when he’s about to pull a Varric, and spin a tall tale. He starts into it now, quickly flashing a charming smile and takes a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak.

I can’t do it again. I can’t listen to someone boldfaced lie to me, and try to act as if it doesn’t concern me at all. “Stop,” I say, holding up a hand, before he can say anything. “Whatever lie you’re about to tell me, just don’t,” I say, and Piper gapes at me in shock, and mild confusion. “In fact, I think we’re finished here, you and I. So, if you’d kindly make your way out, thank you.” I rise from my chair and start cleaning up the table, and meanwhile Piper’s still confused, as if he doesn’t know.

“I don’t understand, what did I do?” he asks me.

I scoff, loudly, rolling my eyes. “Oh don’t you even,” I hiss, angrily. “You thought I wouldn’t figure it out? That Leliana just put you up to this to get information out of me? So what was your plan, actually? Wait until before, or after, you got me into bed before you ran off to your employer with all your juicy bits of blackmail? Are you even from the Free Marches? Or was that all a spun lie as well? Were you even interested in me at all? Or was it all just a game to you, since the moment we met?”

At some point I must’ve started crying, because tears are flowing now, and I find it hard to breathe. My heart is racing so fast, I can barely hear myself think over the noise of it. I think I might actually be having a panic attack. I don’t know. I’ve never had one. Am I panicking right now? Be honest.

“You think this is all a game on my part?” Piper asks me, disbelievingly, as he stands up. “If all I wanted from you was information, I certainly wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble to get it. I’ll have you know I’m far better at my job than that. You wouldn’t even know I was doing it.” He heads for the door. “But while I’m being honest here, I’ll give you a bit of advice, Healer: From now on, don’t let your friends put you up to these pranks. I don’t take kindly to tricks.”

He goes to open the door. “Oh but the crying though,” he adds, “Have to say it’s very a convincing touch.”

“Convincing?! Tricks?! What do you mean ‘put me up to it’? What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes at me and shoots me a look as if to say, ‘As if.’ “You honestly didn’t think I would figure it out? You’re friends with Sera and them. As if I wouldn’t see right through it all. They put you up to all this,” He gestures to the dining table. “You got that table from the tavern. Look, see there? Those marks on the leg? And the chairs? You can’t fool me. I’m not the one playing the game here. So you can tell your friends I’m onto them now.”

“They didn’t put me up to anything!” I swear. “They didn’t even know who I was having dinner with!” At least, not until I got everything to the room and I mentioned it to… Gods damn it all, this was all Varric’s doing, wasn’t it? The little shit. Him and Cadash both. They were just fucking with me, weren’t they? Just to get a rise out of me. “I wasn’t playing any sort of game with you Piper. Oh but I forgot, suppose that’s not even your real name, is it? I don’t even know who you are!”

“A lot of effort wasted on a stranger, eh?” he asks, then disappears, escaping into the night, slamming my door.

It only makes me feel worse.

I burst into tears again, like the pathetic sop that I am, because I realize a moment too late that I actually care about him. Despite all his secrets, despite all his lies, part of me has started to truly care for him. It’s just my luck, isn’t it? That I should always end up with entirely the wrong man. I never should’ve indulged my feelings, and should’ve stuck to swearing off all men like I had planned. I mope about my quarters for the remainder of the evening, before something catches my attention.

The horses Piper carved for me are still sitting on my nightstand.

Part of me wants to smash them in a vengeful rage, but I can’t bring myself to destroy them. It’s not their fault. So instead, I snatch them from the table and hold them in my hands as I sit on my bed, wallowing in misery. Was I wrong? Did I have it all backwards? Piper didn’t have to go out of his way to make something like this for me, did he? Why did he make them then?…I suppose it doesn’t matter now. He’ll never want to see me again after this, and I suppose it’s for the best.

I have more important things to worry about than Piper.

The Herald of Andraste has made his decision, and soon the Inquisition will be meeting with representatives to hopefully seal the Breach, once and for all.

And I’m the unlucky bastard of a healer that gets to go with them.

The following morning I’m still in a righteous mood, which I inadvertently end up taking out on anyone and everyone that crosses my path. Sevan and Georgiana keep out of my path when I rampage through the infirmary, and I don’t know what my face looks like, but I must look monstrous because people go the extra leap to step out of my path when I march up to the tavern, hands clenched tightly into fists. I don’t pinch coin this time around.

I order the tallest cup of the strongest drink I can afford.

“Whoa there, Whiskers, don’t you think it’s a little early for that?” Varric asks when he spots me in the corner with my mug and orders a cup of coffee. “Even I don’t have that bad of a problem and I practically live here.” My response is a glare. “Hey now, why the glare? What could I have possibly done to raise your hackles this early in the day? I haven’t even had breakfast yet!”

“It’s not what you did just now, it’s what you did last night,” I grumble, and by accident, a very inhuman growl is laced in my words.

“What did I do last night?”

“You put all that lark in my head about Piper using me for information, is what you did!” I hiss, before taking a large gulp. I wipe my mouth. Varric sighs and hangs his head.

“Don’t tell me you did what I think you did,” he says.

“Oh I did,” I declare, slamming my drink down on the table, making it slosh a little. “I would’ve been drinking like this last night, after the fact, but I wouldn’t dare leave my cabin. I didn’t want to hear all the jokes at my expense.”

“Oh Whiskers,” he sighs, shaking his head. “You really don’t have a handle on this whole relationship thing, do you?”

I make a _pshh_ sound at that. Understatement of the century, obviously. “He’ll probably never speak to me again,” I grouse. I would burst into tears again, but I’m quite certain I got my fill of it last night, and now all that’s left is anger. “Suppose that’s a good thing. Means I don’t have to care.”

“But obviously you do, though,” the storyteller points out to me. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be drinking yourself into a stupor right now.”

“Shut up, Varric,” I snip, but the dwarf only shrugs and takes a drink of his steaming brew.

“If you’re meaning to hurt my feelings, kid, good luck with that. I get enough of it from the Seeker. I’m immune to it now.”

And suddenly I have a lot more in common with Cassandra Pentaghast than I ever meant to.

No wonder she appointed me.

All makes sense now.

“I like her,” I comment absently before taking a drink.

Varric only snorts in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that went to hell in a hand basket, didn't it? Lol


	23. Chapter 23

Part of me doesn’t quite believe I’ve gotten kicked out. I can absolutely believe he thinks I’m spying, it’s my job, it’s what I do. Still, to be accused of it in my off time is a little bit more insulting than anything. Besides, I feel like he’s plenty full of himself if he thinks Leliana is  _ that _ interested in what he’s up to. Really, if she  _ was _ , she could have sent someone much worse at this than I, and still care back with plenty. 

What I refuse to believe is that no one else had even a slight hand in his rather sudden decision to insist on inviting me over. I’m calm on my way back to my room. Falcon is still there, but he hardly notices my presence. I don’t care right now. I fall into bed and doze off deciding it better to just let him be than to physically push him out. 

He’s gone in the morning. Perhaps the only evidence that last night even happened is my lack of appetite, I opt to skip breakfast and I decide it best not to visit the tavern and risk accidentally crossing paths with him again. Why would I want to see him and risk him thinking I might be spying on him. Instead, I swing over to see Leliana, just to see if there are any updates. I know I’m supposed to drop by and see Cullen to find out if he has any specific preparations in mind or if I’m simply just to hold his soldiers’ hands and point them in the right direction like well armed children. 

I don’t even say a word before she’s looking me over like she already  _ knows  _ exactly what happened. Rather than ask, she tilts her head and picks up a piece of parchment. 

“Who is it then? Who am I sending off? Was it Varric? I’d be in for a lecture but if you insist, I’ll even send off the healer.” She offers. 

“Leave it be, ma lethalin.” I tell her. “I’m fine. Nothing wrong at all.” 

She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me in the least. Sighing to herself, she puts the parchment away. 

“What happened?” She asks. 

“You.” I admit. “He thinks you sent me to spy on him.” 

“Absurd that he’s believe I’m at all in need of information about him.” She shrugs. “I’ve got pages on pages in his file, if I had to guess, someone put the idea in his head.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” I tell her. “I’ve got more important to think about than whether or not someone likes me. If I wanted, I could have almost anyone else, but it’s no real concern.” 

I know she definitely knows otherwise. She already knows my history, knows that, yes, I could have someone else, but it’s like as not to end the next morning anyway. I think she can tell I liked him more than I was prepared to admit. Still, I’ve got my parent’s stubborn streak, and I’m certainly not going to go crawling back to apologize. If anyone should, it definitely would be him. 

She does the unthinkable then, pointing across the yard to my room. 

“If you’re not up to it, I’ll discuss it with Cullen, see if I can’t find it in him to take another with him instead. I’d rather you not get careless and risk getting hurt.” She says. 

“I said I’m  _ fine! _ ” I bark. “So help me if anyone even  _ thinks _ of taking my job…” 

I’m plenty capable of separating my personal life from my work. I don’t need her to hold my hand just for the sake of a bad night. Really, it’s probably my own stupidity for thinking it could work. It’s a new record though. First time anyone has ever kicked me out  _ before  _ they decided to take me to bed first. Usually that comes after, the usual ‘it was amazing but I’m just not interested in getting serious’. Of course. 

She frowns a little, eyeing the parchment again and I already know what’s on her mind. Contact either my aunt or my mother. Considering the former, I’d almost she rather write my mother. We don’t need an incident of  _ that _ magnitude. Relenting finally, I shrug. 

“If you’re going to talk to someone, it might as well be my parents. Suppose they’d be thrilled to find out I’ve failed yet again.” I scoff. 

Raising a brow, she leans over the table. I watch her hastily pen out a letter before she toes it up and hands it to one of her birds, taking absolute care that it’s as it should be before she sends it off. 

Let him wonder a bit longer when they get it in their heads to come here. He’s  _ so _ curious about my family without realizing he already knows or at least knows  _ of _ two of my relatives, one perhaps only by deeds alone. Josephine of course will handle it flawlessly, but given Cullen’s distaste for dealing with nobles? He’s like as not to be as frustrated by what’s sure to happen as I am. I don’t wish them on my enemies, let alone my colleagues. She’s been hinting at it for months. Might as well give in and let her. Can’t get much worse anyway. 

I sigh, trying to imagine  _ that _ scenario in my mind and I already see it going terrible. Haven might well fall under the burden of trying to properly accommodate them. 

“Well. If you’re done questioning my poor ability to form a successful relationship of any kind, I’ll be on my way. Suppose I’ll have to fall in for the famed training regimen. Long as I don’t have to wear any ridiculously bulky armor, I don’t care.” I grouse. 

“Actually, he doesn’t expect you to train with them. Really, I’ve already gotten a good look at his reports, all he wants is to review the basic idea with you. Given that you’ve seen more of Therinfal than any of my spies, he figured you might have some insight as to what kind of welcome to expect and perhaps small details of the layout.” She says. 

“Is that all? I could just draw him a map and scribble on it ‘something is wrong. Expect hostility’ on the border. About all I’ve got to tell. I gather I have to spell it out. Slowly. With small words.” I reply, thickly laced with sarcasm. 

“His men are varying degrees of green, certainly. He himself is no fool, however. I’m quite certain you can use the big words with him. He’ll understand.” She tells me, matching my tone effortlessly. 

“Very well. I’ll be on my way then.” I sigh. 

“Are you sure you don’t want him sent off? Or perhaps I might be able to find someone more to your taste. Someone I could look into personally, so you’d know he’d get on well with you.” She offers. 

“Thank you but I don’t need you to find me a pity date. Being alone suits me better anyway. Less to worry about. Not like I’m lonely or anything. I’m not a nug that needs a friend.” I grumble. 

“Everyone needs a friend. Without Josephine I’m certain I would be worse off. There are plenty of people here. I know Falcon likes you very much, he tells me your his best friend.” She says. 

“Creators, I wish he wouldn’t spread such vicious rumors. Besides, he’s busy making eyes at the seamstress. Just like Harding for Cadash” I snort. “And I don’t want to hear more about Starling’s boring life in Starkhaven. I swear if she tells me any more about the chantry and the walls and this and that, I might explode.” I complain. 

Then maybe not a spy. What about one of the soldiers? You might be surprised what you could have in common with them.” She suggests.

“I’d sooner deal myself an injury and go home.” I say, rolling my eyes. “Really, I’m fine. You need not be so worried for me. One bad night is hardly worth a fuss. I’ve been through much worse and I’m certain I’ll do so again.” 

She sighs again, heavier this time. She finally dismisses me, but rather than go and deal with business as I had planned, i instead opt to try and put on a good show of carrying on. She thinks I’m suffering, but I’m fine. I decide to go to the tavern after all. If he happens to be there, let him be there. If he decides he wants to say something, I have a few things I could say in return. Namely the helpful information that multiple someones made off with her table without her knowledge. If he’s really upset with me, I could let Leliana know what was on the menu last night.

Still, I’m not out to hurt him. I wouldn’t want to resort to that, ever. In the end, the Inquisition needs him, and depriving people of help just because it got to me more than a little is not my first reaction. I’d rather just let him be. Really this is more of a show that I am every bit as fine as I claim to be, even if only I know just how much it really stung. 

Someone has a sense of humor, however. I’m scarcely halfway there when I feel something smash into me. I don’t even have to bother looking to know exactly who it is too. Falcon is finally up and about, later than usual. I don’t get a chance to protest before he drags me away to the mess hall, plunking me down before he returns with two meals, pushing one toward me. 

“So. You came back late last night, how did it go?” He asks curiously. 

Rather than give him a play by play that will only serve to dredge up all that emotion again, i force a smile, humming thoughtfully. 

“It went great. Thinking I’ll see him again when we get back. Right now, I need to focus on this mission before I think about making anymore plans.” I lie. 

He reaches over, patting my shoulder with a big grin. “I’m so glad to hear that. I thought for sure you were so grumpy that you’d have chased him off.” 

“Says the man who can’t figure out how to tell the girl he likes that he wants to go on a date with her..” I counter exhaustedly.

Since I’m already hear, I pick at my breakfast with a groan. He shrugs, undeterred. He looks strangely excited suddenly. 

“Don’t you worry about that. I’m gonna take an example from you. I’m gonna see about making some quick food, and then pack it up, take her out by the lake and talk over a nice dinner.” He says. “Your healer has a good head on his shoulder.” 

“That he does.” I agree. “It is indeed a good idea, and I think you should go for it. I’m certain it can’t go any wor—  _ better _ .”

He doesn’t seem to notice my near slip, too busy practicing on how to ask her out to himself. Not that I cared too much at the moment to complain about it. I don’t care too much about a great many things at the moment. Things that normally annoy me hardly even register right now. It’s somewhat nice, but somehow it also still stings a bit. 

I’m barely comfortable accepting that I somehow got that interested in him for it to bother me at all. Really, much as I want to consider anything else, he just keeps wiggling his way into my thoughts. A small part of me hopes it bothers him more, maybe even hurts. The thought of him wallowing in his oats somewhere cheers me up just a little. Mostly I’m curious as to what really gave him the impression I needed to spy on him for any reason, or that I’d bother to bring work into my spare time, but that’s no longer my problem. Who knows. He had one of Cullen’s men and went to Leliana’s next. Who’s to say he wouldn’t go after Josephine’s if she even  _ had  _ people. All she has are nobles, and most would rather put him to work, I’m certain. 

At least I tried. 


	24. Chapter 24

“You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?” Cullen asks me, when I’ve stumbled my way to the training yard.

“No,” I swear, then immediately hiccup, giving myself away completely. “Will you send me to the Storm Coast?”

“Send you to the…” Cullen smears a hand across his face. “What happened _this_ time?”

“Nothing. Just…” It’s my turn to smear a hand across my face. “Just get me out of these Maker-forsaken mountains is all. I can’t stand it anymore.”

“Sister Leliana is right, you _are_ a terrible liar.”

“ _Please_ Cullen?”

“ _No_ ,” he stresses, turning away from me to hand off the report in his hand to his new second in command, Rylen, who raises a brow at the both of us, but thankfully keeps his thoughts to himself.

“I can’t send either of the apprentices to Ferelden on your behalf. Neither of them have the experience you have, not to mention they’re both from the Circle. The Templars there will notice them immediately. But you, on the other hand, are an apostate, and an elf. Which means you’ll blend right in with the other attendants we’re sending with Lady Josephine’s entourage.” I sigh dejectedly at all that. Mostly because he’s right. “What is all this _really_ about?”

“It’s stupid,” I grumble, bunching up in the wind.

Cullen sighs at me. Then he gestures to the tent nearby. “Step into my office.”

Oh wonderful. Now I’m to get a lecture, on top of everything else.

With a frown, I follow the Commander inside the tent, vaguely hearing Ser Rylen continue the soldiers’ training just outside while Cullen steps around the desk and faces me once more. He folds his arms and stares at me sternly, like a disappointed father, or perhaps the look he gives his recruits. “This is the first you’ve ever requested a reassignment, Elias,” he points out. “Why don’t you tell me the reason why, and then I’ll see about honoring that request.”

I fidget a little. I don’t really want to say. I’d rather forget the whole thing happened and move on with my life, but Cullen’s not letting me.

“Who do I need to place on latrine duty now?” he adds, obviously suspecting the _real_ reason I want to be sent away.

My ears flatten. “No one,” I say quietly, picking at my nails. “No one did anything to offend me. It’s not even… It’s my own fault I suppose. Nothing anyone else did. Just me being stupid.”

“I don’t suppose this has anything to do with one of Leliana’s agents, does it?” Cullen then asks, and I grimace.

“N-No?”

“Want to try that again?” he says, almost smiling, but not quite.

I hang my head. “Maybe… Alright, yes.”

“Have you thought perhaps to take the matter up with her? Since this is a matter involving one of her people, perhaps she ought to be informed.”

Oh yes, and dig my own grave while I’m at it? Sure. Why not.

“I’d rather not bring this matter to anyone’s attention. At all.”

“That bad, was it?”

“I’d rather not go into any details…”

Cullen lets out a frustrated grumble. “The Herald told me everything after the Fallow Mire, I’m sure you know,” he says, making my eyes widen and dart to his. Everything?! As in…Oh Gods. “You are a terrific healer, Elias. I’m not sure you’re truly aware of the impact you’ve made here at Haven. I would hate for the Inquisition to lose you. And I would regret sending you away. You’ve done a lot for us, and you deserve to have… some benefit from that.”

“If you’re about to tell me anything even remotely resembling ‘You deserve to be happy’, I’ll tell you two things: One, already got that speech from Mister Tethras, and two, do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds coming from my superior? I mean, really.”

Cullen chuckles a little. “I agree, it’s a bit absurd. But it’s still the truth. I may not be an expert on these situations, however it is part of my job as Commander of the Inquisition to see that our subordinates are… playing nicely. To ensure that everyone’s needs are met… Not to imply that I…I mean, that’s not to say…” Cullen massages his chin for a moment, trying to salvage his botch of words, before finally he sighs. “I only mean to say, if there’s something you need…I…that’s…”

“You worse at this than I am,” I chuckle, shaking my head, and Cullen snorts, laughing at himself.

“I suppose I am. But all I mean to say is, if you have a problem with someone, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what the problem is.”

“It’s really nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “Just…things didn’t work out how I thought they would.”

“A pity,” Cullen remarks, sympathetically.

“If Therinfal Redoubt is really where you need me to be, then that’s where I’ll be,” I finally agree, with a nod, though I hate it. It means I’ll be stuck here at Haven until Piper leaves. “I suppose I’ll just drink my pain like the rest of Thedas until then.”

“Don’t drink too much, Healer. Eventually we might require your being sober, perhaps when more wounded start pouring in?”

I chortle a little, clutching my stomach, suddenly in a better mood than I’ve been in all morning.

“I once healed a broken leg after out drinking an Avvar under the table,” I say. “There’s no such thing as too drunk to heal, Commander. In fact, it makes me better, I think.”

He rolls his eyes like he doesn’t believe it. “Just go,” he says, dismissing me.

That, I’m happy to do. Though it’s strange. Looking at Cullen just now… I realize he’s not as attractive as I thought he was initially. There’s something I find lacking in the warrior. I suppose that’s something to do with the head of dark hair and the flash of blue eyes I’ve grown fond of recently. I shake my head at myself just thinking about it. All I can think of is Piper. So stupid. Stupid that I’m so hung up on a man who I don’t even know his real name, and might never know.

But there was something in his eyes last night. Something like… disappointment maybe. Do I dare to hope that I was wrong about him? Do I even allow myself to think for one second that he might actually care about me? Maybe he just didn’t expect to? I refuse to believe the whole thing was genuine. I walk past a group of soldiers and hear snickering in my wake. Don’t know what it’s about, but I can imagine it’s some inner joke I’m not privy to the details of.

I get just through the main gate when I’m stopped my Lenna. “El!” She waves, then runs up to me excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. “I have been looking for you everywhere! I have the most wonderful news! Falcon finally spoke to me today! He’s invited me on a picnic! Isn’t that spectacular?”

I sigh a little. “That’s great Lenna,” I mumble, trying to smile, but she notices something’s wrong and her smile fades.

“Elias, what’s wrong? What happened?” She cups my shoulders. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Have I?” I grouse, hardly thrilled about being questioned yet again by someone.

“Whatever is the matter?”

“Nothing,” I say. But she doesn’t believe it. “I’m fine, just… had a bad night.”

“Well, let’s go to the tavern and talk about it.”

She starts dragging me toward it, and reluctantly I follow, but stop when I see Piper stepping inside.

“Oh look! There’s Piper!” she chirps happily, and tugs on my arm. But I don’t follow. Do I go inside the tavern and let him see me like this? I’m still in my bed clothes. I didn’t bother dressing this morning, only threw on my boots and a cardigan for warmth. I didn’t even brush my hair. My face is all red from drinking, and crying the night before. I look like shit, I feel like shit. Do I pretend nothing happened between us? What would I even say to him? I don’t know if I can face him.

But I don’t want to upset Lenna, so I follow her inside, and let her drag me over to the table near the fire. I haven’t managed to return the missing table yet, haven’t figured out how to get it out of my room without anyone’s notice, so Piper is sitting close to the fire. Flissa is walking over to him to take his order as we approach. He hasn’t seen me yet. It’s not too late to back out if I want. I could just turn around now, walk back to my room and hide there.

Maybe not come out until it’s time to leave for my next assignment. There’s no work that Sev and Georgie can’t handle without me. I could very well lock myself in my cabin until we leave for Therinfal. Maybe set booby traps to keep away Leliana should she come for me with an arrow knocked in my name. Maybe have Sera sneak into her tent and hide all her sharp things. “Piper!” Lenna calls, smiling and waving, completely ruining my chances as retreating, and I duck my head, looking away.

Piper doesn’t look happy to see me. Not any happier than I am. Well, what did I expect? For him to still want me? For him to still care? Seeing him now, I don’t think he does. He probably wants me dead. Maybe he’s already plotting on making that happen. Who’s to say really. Maybe he’ll catch me on the road to Therinfal and assassinate me. I know I’m probably overreacting to the whole thing, but I can’t help it. I’d really thought Piper and I could be something special.

Gods damn it all, I was so stupid!

I should’ve known better than to get my hopes up. I should’ve known better than to think I’d ever find someone who truly cared for me. I should’ve known I’d only find another Wickam. Perhaps I just preemptively spared myself further heart ache.

I plop down in the seat beside Lenna, across from Piper, and keep my eyes on the table.

I can only hope and pray Sera or Cadash don’t show up to make things worse…

…And _there_ they are now.

Just. Fucking. Wonderful.

“Whiskers!” Sera shouts, skipping up to the table, followed by the Herald.

“Whoa, did somebody die?” Cadash asks.

May as well have, honestly.

Maker, Creators, Lady or the Stone, just take me now.


	25. Chapter 25

Lenna calls to me. I tried my best not to bother looking but I have to. I have to know just how he looks. He looks like he rolled out of bed, like he’s been drinking. I opt instead of being cold to take a lesson from Josephine and try to kill him with kindness. I pause to grab a bottle of whiskey, bringing my own drink with me. Setting it down between them, I smile.

“How are you today?” I ask Lenna. “You look like you’ve got good news. Take it Falc finally asked you? He’s been a mess for days trying to figure out how to ask you out.” 

Sera and Cadash come in and I notice Elias looks rather conflicted by that, and that makes me curious. For all his suspicions of me  _ he _ looks like he’s more wounded by it than I am. 

“Enjoy.” I say, leaving the bottle behind before I turn to leave. 

I’ve got nothing of real merit to do, save sharing what I know with Cullen and his men. I still hasn’t escaped me that I don’t really want to deal with it. That’s the problem with making yourself indispensable. It’s a problem I think Elias must also know very well. 

I just want to go back to my room and be alone. I don’t want to do anything, would like to do nothing more than curl up and stay put in my bed until it’s time for me to go, but the thing is that would tip my hand too much, it would be a glaring beacon that I’m not okay at all. I figured I’d definitely be the one to ruin things, I never expected that sort of reaction, and I’m both hurt and angry. Neither does me any good, so burying under everything seems the best option for now. 

I try to convince myself there’s nothing special about him and that I’ve been broken by better men than he, but that’s a lie I can’t manage. If he wasn’t somehow so interesting, I could forget him with ease. Maybe my string of bad luck with respect to relationships has everything to do with me pissing off the Creators, or the Maker, some power beyond me that is trying to tell me this is what I get for defying my birthright. For not taking responsibility and doing what I was meant to. Or maybe I’m just really not meant to be with anyone and a quick lay is all I can ever hope for. Maybe I sent the wrong person to the brothel and it should have been me. 

Lenna certainly seemed happy. If that cracked nut can make her smile like that, why is it I always seem like I’m destined to be miserable or make others feel that way? I’m certain I must be cursed. 

Oh I’ve pondered ways to really rub it in. Thought of maybe taking up with someone else I feel nothing for, just to let him see how quickly I can move on. If humans in any way appealed to me, I might have even tried seducing the Shitkicker, but the more I consider my options, the less appealing they all seem to me. 

Rather than any of that, I opt to stop long enough to slip into his room. I’ve learned through rumor that he can’t read, so I keep it simple enough. I don’t bother with the fancy drawings, but rather simple stick figures even a child could figure out. A few people to represent a family, and a crude map leading to Leliana’s domain. He wants so badly to know about me and who I am? Let him go right to the source. Let him find out how it was I got the chance to prove myself and assert myself in the Inquisition. 

I stopped by to grab the Warden’s tale, dropping that on top of the note before I take off. As much as I’d rather not, I head across the yard again to ensure all my business is taken care of before I go for a bath and turn in for the night. I may hurt and my pride may be the most wounded, but I’m not a beast, I still care that I take care of myself. We hold our heads high and we carry on rather than burdening others with our misery. 

It takes only a few moments to make it to the yard, or at least it feels that way. Cullen’s there, right in front of me, in fact, but he’s failed to note my presence. No surprise. A number of times, I’ve managed to sneak up on people without that being my intent. Rylen is there, and for a moment I even consider what it might take to pull him into my bed. I’m not interested, but he seems like the type some might be jealous of, and st this instant? I’ve a peculiar urge to get all this frustration and pain out in the best way I can think of. 

I can’t. Not just because it wouldn’t make me happy in the least, but because it’s not fair to him or to Elias, much as I’d rather not care too deeply about how he feels or what he would think. He still hasn’t looked, so I clear my throat, biting back the desire to laugh a bit when he jumps before he composes himself almost convincingly enough to believe he didn’t if I didn’t notice these things out of habit. 

“I’m here to discuss the information you requested.” I tell him. 

I can see the gears of thought turning in his mind. Looks like he’s trying to find something and I can only make an educated guess that he’s already spoke to Elias. I’ve been around enough people and studied body language and expressions enough to understand he’s certainly aware that things didn’t go as planned and he’s trying to figure out both if I’ve done something and if I’m as distraught as he might be. Rolling my eyes, I default to my first instinct: lie. 

“Before you ask, it was me. I’m the reason he looks like that, and I ruined everything. He has no blame in this.” I tell him. 

I don’t think he completely believes me, but regardless he seems to accept what I say. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I cut him off. 

“Let’s keep whatever you’re about to say strictly to business. My time is important and I’m not going to stay if you’ve a lecture in you.” I tell him firmly, 

He sighs in a way that suggests that’s  _ precisely  _ what he was going to do. Instead, he moves out of hearing range of others, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’m told you’ve been  _ inside  _ Therinfal Redoubt. I don’t know how you managed that exactly, but I need specifics so I don’t send my men into something they aren’t prepared for.” He says. 

“As I’ve told Leliana, I’ll happily draw up the exact layout if it helps. I’m not very useful outside of my job, but I  _ do _ remember things decently well. I recall what I’ve seen there as if I had just seen it. The picture is  _ not good.”  _

“Do elaborate. What  _ exactly  _ do you consider  _ not good? _ ” He asks. 

“Certainly most of the Templars appear to be in control of their minds and their faculties, but many kept disappearing deeper in where I couldn’t access. I’m no expert, but I’m certain I seen red lyrium there.. I can’t say what’s going on with those that have disappeared, but I’m concerned it’s something potentially sinister. You can be certain Cadash may be able to make some allies, but not without a few casualties, on their side at least.” I explain. 

“Red lyrium…” He reflects. “Perhaps I’ll recommend that he take Varric with. He won’t be pleased, but as far as I’m aware he may be the most knowledgeable on the subject. I wasn’t there when it was discovered, I only know the effect it had on the Knight-Commander.”

“Well. Yes, aside from giving you an indication of the layout, I’ve told you all I know on the matter. As for how I pulled it off, that’s my secret. It’s why I’m still here. I have plenty of use left and I go where I’m pointed and do precisely what I’m told.” I say with a shrug. 

“I know you said strictly business, but since you claim responsibility and we do still find ourselves needing our healer, I believe it’s my responsibility to say that I will need to talk to Leliana if this doesn’t resolve itself quickly.” He says with a sigh. 

Rather than worry, I look him right in the eye, offering him an all too pleasant smile. I have plenty of insight gleaned from poking through his files that the Lion’s teeth don’t frighten me. Not when I have just the information to defend him. 

“You know, she made mention to my kin taking interest in visiting.” I lie. “I’m sure you’re dying to see my aunt again, I’m given to understand you’re fairly well acquainted? Met at Kinloch, Isn’t that right?” 

He goes pale, and for just a bit, I feel terrible about having to dredge up such awful memories for him. Still, no thanks to my upbringing, my family, or even Leliana herself, I don’t deal with threats well. If he thinks he can have me punished by speaking to the Nightingale, he’s sorely mistaken. 

“Yes, I’m familiar with her.” He says. 

Thankfully, it seems he’s entirely missed that I didn’t just bring it up on purpose, I’m certain he doesn’t hold it against me. Good, he’s a decent sort and I don’t want to hurt him on purpose just because I can. Still, I’m all about ensuring my place here and at times, my survival.

“Enough about that. Do you have a place I can sit to sketch this up for you?” I ask. 

He nods slowly, gesturing to a tent that functions as a sort of command center. He pulls out a chair for me, pulling out a few pieces of parchment and a quill, an inkwell. Hunching over the table, I close my eyes for a minute, recalling the layout before I start sketching it out. I mistakenly believed he’d left, until his shadow crosses the table, and his hand creaks on the back of the chair. 

Considering that I had just brought up an entirely sore subject, I opt not to make any commentary about how he’s making it difficult to focus on the task at hand, he is, but I can work around it. I scrawl our the entirety of what I’ve seen as best I can recall, arranging the parchment pages in order of how they should go. 

“This is the best I can do. As I’ve said, wherever they’ve gone, I can’t say. If I had seen it, I could show you. This will have to suffice.” I tell him. 

I stand up, sliding past him carefully, and he leans on the table, looking it over thoughtfully. 

“You’ve seen this all? Unnoticed?” He asks in disbelief. 

Nodding, I sigh. “I’ll give you a demonstration later if I must. For now, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get a bath and go to bed”

“It’s rather early for that, isn’t it?” He asks. 

“I’m tired. I just need a nap, not like I intend to sleep the day away.” I grumble a bit. 

“Ah, well I suppose it is better to rest up as much as you need, it won’t do to have you dragging when the time comes to set off.” He relents.

Once he’s allowed me to set off, I return to my room, intent on grabbing my things. For the life of me, I can’t muster the strength or the will to get back up and go just yet. It’ll pass soon enough, I tell myself, falling back into the bed with a heavy sigh. Why don’t I ever just learn my lesson. I know telling myself that telling him off if he decides to try and make up for it is completely out of the question is just another lie. I don’t know that I entirely believe he’s really a cat or whatever, but whatever he is, I can’t seem to shake him...


	26. Chapter 26

I was wrong about him.

I’m now convinced of that. I don’t know if I’m entirely right about him still, but I know I was wrong about a couple of things.

After pestering me endlessly, I finally spilled to my friends about what happened with Piper at dinner, and got a lecture from everyone at the table. Everyone seemed convinced that I was being ridiculous to even consider Piper was just using me for information. And they all tried to convince me of how much he seemed to genuinely like me, and how I was mistaken. But they felt bad about what happened. Varric’s words especially stuck in my mind.

_‘Ah, shit, I’m sorry, Whiskers, I didn’t mean to make you paranoid. I was just trying to make sure you thought things over carefully, you know? Didn’t want you to end up with another situation like the lieutenant.’_

_‘It’s alright, Varric, no harm done.’_

I felt terrible, and ended up drowning myself in whiskey for the remainder of the day. The way Piper acted so nice and polite, even smiled at me like nothing happened between us at all, made me feel even worse. Sera vowed to put something nasty in his bed for hurting me, and I had to make her promise she would leave him alone. Convince her it wasn’t his fault, that the fault was all mine. Lenna suggested I simply go and apologize to him, and make up for what happened.

As if it’s that simple.

It’s _not_ that simple.

And there doesn’t seem to be a point. Looks like he’s already moved past it. Doesn’t even care. So I sit and drink instead, then when I’m sober, make myself busy with packing for the trip to Therinfal Redoubt. I sort through items in the infirmary first, making a list of what I plan to take and what I can afford to leave behind for Sev and Georgie’s use in my absence. Then I go to my room to pack any personal items next. Only then do I notice something off about the picture.

Someone’s been in my room.

I do a double take when I see items left on my nightstand. A book, and a slip of parchment, with the two horses Piper carved for me used as a paper weight to hold it down. I lift the parchment first and see that it’s a picture. I have no idea what it means but there are stick figures grouped together. I get a look at the book next. “W-waaardenn’s Taa…Tale. Warden’s Tale?” Why is there a copy of the story of the Hero of Ferelden and a drawing in my room? And who left them there?

Might’ve been Falcon. Can’t think of any reason Piper would’ve been in my room recently, not after what happened between us, but I can’t be sure. The only thing I’m certain of is that it was one of Leliana’s people. Who else would go sneaking around, picking locks in Haven? Other than a spy? Or Sera. But Sera wouldn’t leave something so cryptic. Her drawings were always something obscene. If it were her, it would be a doodle of myself and Piper kissing, and she wouldn’t do that.

It’s about time I faced the Spymaster’s wrath anyway, so I head up to her tent to ask about the drawing of figures, with a little map of what looks like Haven, and an arrow pointing to her tent. “Healer,” she clips sourly when she sees me, and judging by the look on her face, she already knows everything. Piper probably told her how I tricked him, and then to top it off, told him how much of a monster I am for eating nugs with not so much of an ounce of remorse.

Well I’m remorseful _now_ , at least.

“I ate a nug,” I admit, hanging my head in shame, before she can even question me about it. “I admit, I did it. I like eating nugs. And I’m sorry. Man’s gotta do whatever he can to survive when living off the land, and sometimes food was scarce. I never saw a difference from one animal to another. But they said you like to keep them as pets, and I didn’t know. I won’t do it anymore, I promise. I’ve sworn off nugs. No more nugs. Ever. Again.”

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this, Elias?” she asks. “I already assumed. Given your magical abilities. It only made sense you should have a few… _carnivorous_ habits as well. Surely that’s not what you’ve come to talk about.” She gestures to the book and the paper I’m holding. “What is that?”

I hold it out for her to see. “I don’t know, but I think Piper left these in my room. I think he wanted me to ask you about them.”

“Hmm, curious,” she says, accepting the items when I hand them over. She waves me into her tent and reluctantly I follow, bracing myself for the tongue lashing I’ll likely receive by the end of it. “What happened between the two of you?” she asks me, and I guess that she already knows everything, but just wants to hear me say it, before she starts grilling me for details. She wants to see me sweat over this, but honestly, I have no fucks left to give about it.

“I made a mistake,” I say, cutting right to the heart of the issue. She lifts a brow. “I accused him of just trying to get close to me for information. That maybe you just sent him snooping around my personal life for my secrets. Of course, that was before I found out you already knew _everything_. Cullen says Cadash told him everything about the Mire, even about the…you know. And I’m assuming that if Cullen knows, that means you know as well.”

She scowls at me. “Yes, I do. But what made you think I would ever use Piper like that? I have asked my agents to do many questionable things, but I would never use their romantic feelings for someone to my advantage.” Oh Gods. Now I feel even worse! She makes it sound like Piper really did have feelings for me! Or maybe she just assumed he did. “And I certainly wouldn’t resort to such tactics. There are far better ways of searching out information, that you would never even know it was obtained.”

I sigh a little, keeping my eyes on the frozen ground beneath my feet. I know that now. I didn’t think about it then.

“I-I know,” I mumble, contritely. “I just…I didn’t think…”

A sudden realization crosses her features as she stares down at me. “You wanted there to be a reason, didn’t you?” she asks. “You wanted Piper to have an ulterior motive, because the alternative frightened you more. That he might truly care for you. So you found an excuse to end the relationship before you were hurt again.” She sighs, shaking her head at me. “Oh Elias. What are we to do with you, you silly cat. Give you a mouse, and instead of catching it, you chase it away.”

Yes, that’s a pretty accurate way of putting it. That’s exactly what I did. I chased away my boon, if I can call it that.

“Well, he… he doesn’t seem to be too upset about it,” I say, scratching my head. “In fact, he didn’t even seem like he cared.”

Like I didn’t matter.

Like I’m nothing to him.

I won’t lie, that hurts.

“If he didn’t care, why would he give you this?” Leliana asks me, gesturing to the book.

“What does it mean?” I ask, and she mulls it over.

“I still can’t be sure, not without more information. What did the two of you speak of during dinner?”

“Well, I asked him about his family. It seemed to upset him. He didn’t want to talk about them.”

“Ah, it makes sense now. These are clues, breadcrumbs. To find the answers you seek.”

I glance at the arrow on the paper pointing to Leliana’s tent.

“Meaning he wanted me to ask you?”

“Could be. What did you want to know about them?”

I swallow the lump in my throat, blinking away the tears that form. I didn’t expect much, just the little things. Like does he miss them? Does he think about them all the time? Does he ever write to them? Does he feel lonely? Does he have any siblings he was ever close to, that he played with as a child? Was he happy growing up? Or did he run away like I did? Were they taken from him? Did they love him? Do they miss him too? Does he need someone to talk to?

Maybe just hug him and make him feel better? Like he isn’t alone?

I didn’t need to know his family tree, just if he’s happy.

But I fucked it up, didn’t I?

 _Stupid cat_.

“It’s…it’s alright, Spymaster, I don’t need to know,” I say, then turn to leave.

“But, I thought you wanted-”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I say, and walk away at that.

* * *

The trip to Therinfal Redoubt is long and exhausting. I’m traveling in a cart with other elves, some of them posing as servants, and some of them are actual servants, though Piper and Falcon are nowhere to be found. They were sent ahead to get an update on the situation with the Templars before the Herald meets them. I’m assuming they’ll meet us at the encampment on the outskirts sometime before or after we arrive with more information. I doubt Piper will speak to me though.

As I’m posing as the _chatelaine_ , which Josephine says is the head servant that organizes everything, I’ll have my own tent, which will also serve as the infirmary should anyone need medical attention. I’m grateful for the privacy, and I’m sure everyone is equally thankful they don’t have to tolerate me any more than necessary in my current mood. I’m entirely too short and snippy with people, and just depressed the rest of the time, partly because I feel guilty and partly because of why I’m snippy.

I take most of my frustration out on barking orders at the other servants, bossing them around, organizing the assembly of camp. It’s ridiculous. There are oversized tents that could easily fit twenty people, but they’re for just one person each. Lord Abernache and the other representatives of various Orlesian noble houses that have come to support the Inquisition, and mean to press upon the Templars to get them to seal the Breach. One tent. For _each_.

The spoiled ninnies!

There are others meant for the servants and valets, the soldiers and the scouts, also one for the Herald of Andraste, and one for his companions. That’s not including all the furniture carted along that needs assembled, the bathing tent, the mess tent, and the paddock for the Inquisition’s stock. It’s grueling work getting it all set up, and I’m exhausted by the end of it. I’m ready to fall right to my tent when it’s over. But unfortunately, I have the worst kind of luck.

Because just when I’ve stripped out of my uniform and crawled in bed, just then the tent flap opens.


	27. Chapter 27

I have not much to pack for the trip. Pretty much I just get dressed, grab my bow and my arrows, pack a knife just out of view under the hem of my tunic and I head out with Falcon. Confident as ever, that one. Never encountered anything afield that’s given him too much pause save a few scouts and their habit of loud snoring. He’s put off a bit by that, I’d say. 

Leliana has given us explicit instructions to follow Commander Cullen’s orders this time. Commander Cullen dictates that we’re to give him an update, and after several hours on horse, mostly filled with a whole lot of nothing but ruminating on how much it’s hurting my ass to sit on such a wide, ungainly beast. I’ve been a bit spoiled. Never had much use to ride a horse, though I have an elk back home. Him, I  _ do  _ miss. Hexaka is his name, a gift from my aunt for when I was older, given on my nameday. We grew together, and I did regret not bringing him with. If I know my mother well enough, she’ll come eventually, Hexaka not far behind. 

I do wonder if Elias found the drawing, if he sought out Leliana. He’s probably got his answers by now, and of course, Cullen took it upon himself to inform me he’ll be along for this. I didn’t count on that. We never bring healers. We’re trained in first aid so that we can treat injuries on the go, not that we usually have many, none that really require a healer, save the rare death of agents who simply weren’t as ready for this life as they seemed. That too is a rarity though. I suppose having a healer is more for the soldiers in the end?

When we get there, Falcon insists on trying first, and by the time I have my chance to peek around, Cullen is already there. Predictably, my associate has little to glean and Cullen seems keenly interested to see what tricks I have up my sleeve to get inside unnoticed. With a shrug, I take a running jump towards the wall and hop over it. As far as he might have seen, I probably just vanished completely, but the truth is, it’s not magic or anything of the sort. No trick, that I know of. I’m just blessed with being forgettable to most. I slip past a group of Templar’s waiting in the courtyard and wander right in. Shouldn’t be very different from the last time. It hasn’t been very long at all. I’m wrong, of course. 

It’s rather very different, actually. There’s banners in the courtyard for a start, and inside, a group of Templars boredly commenting on the Herald’s impending visit over drinks. It’s...not that different from how it feels in Haven, actually. The Lord Seeker has finally come out of hiding, and despite the secrecy, seems largely no different than I might expect, save that he’s got a weird vibe to him that I don’t like. Could just be me though. He’s got a face that puts me completely off. That could be it. Slimy, weasely human that makes my skin crawl.

I keep going about halfway in before I can’t seem to go in any further, despite having been through almost all of it last time. It’s not specifically physical barriers that stop me, though there are certainly more obstacle than I recall, and I don’t know enough about magic to comment on whether my inability to pass is due to it or not. I suppose that’s the downside of growing up outside a circle or a clan. I know next to nothing about magic, what little I’m aware that I know was due to trial and error, not training of any kind. I’ve heard all elves possess the ability to use magic, but most never realize that, or perhaps it’s that they’re not aware of it enough to bother trying and their potential is so small that they simply never think to experiment with it. 

I myself am quite satisfied not knowing anything more than what I do, and as tempting as the ability to set someone on fire for being annoying  _ might _ be, I’d rather not bother to work on it enough to discover if I even  _ could _ . Of course it could all be rubbish too, for all I know. Something made up that sounds just plausible enough to be true, along the lines of Varric’s more noticeable lies and exaggerations, I’d wager.

With no way forward, I resign myself to going back and delivering my updated information like I’m suppose to, as disappointing as it is to me, I’m certain it will still be of some use to him, and by default, Cadash. Slipping back out into the courtyard, i duck out of the way, long enough to see what I can glean from the decor change. I can’t tell if it’s a Seeker thing, a Templar thing, or if someone just got tired of looking at such boring scenery and redecorated for a bit of color. I recognize the Templar symbols, and something that reminds me of the Chantry, but it makes little sense to me. File it away to include in my report, however meaningful or meaningless it might be. There’s a few boxes by the wall now, high enough for me to step up and pull myself up and over, rather than having to climb the whole wall.

Falcon stands near Cullen, matching his posture, arms folded over his chest as though he too is waiting for the report. I’m not even sure he realizes he’s doing it, or that he looks ridiculous And not at all as imposing as Cullen looks. Hegestures me off to the side to speak privately about what I had managed to see, anything at all that’s potentially important to the mission, that could be useful to Cadash, him, or his soldiers, in approximately that order, I’m tempted to believe. 

“You’ve done good work, I see why Leliana speaks so highly of you.” He comments. “This is certainly valuable. For the moment, we’re still waiting. You may as well take a short rest while we finish up the preparations. I’m told there’s still a few people that aren’t present, and Josephine insisted we wait until everyone is present and accounted for.” He pauses, looking at me strangely before he gestures to my arm. “Looks like you’re bleeding. Might want to get that looked at.” 

I glance down for a moment. It’s hardly more than a scratch, an inconvenience at worst. Probably scratched it on a nail in a crate or something. I’d sooner forget about it before he gives me a firmer look, gesturing to a tent that’s been set up in my absence. Grimacing, i relent. 

As if I don’t see it for what it is. I’m not stupid, I’m aware Elias is in there, after all, he’s the healer they’ve assigned. I don’t think he’s actually concerned about it when I  _ know _ his men take worse injuries in training than this and they’re expected to keep going. No, he’s just trying to come up with an excuse to put me in the same space with him. I don’t know why he’d want something like that, nor do I particularly care about the reasoning. I’m not sure I’m really ready to deal with him. I’m certain he’ll only think I’m just trying to pry some information or other out of him yet again. 

I wonder if I should just begin by saying that I’m not interested in talking, just patch it up and I’ll be on my way, or if I actually  _ want _ to hear what he’d have to say, what he believes is going on. Either way, I had to set off so early I had no time to do anything meaningful, so I suppose if I’ve got the time, I’ll grab a few minutes’ nap, maybe grab a bite to eat and get some water for later. Maybe see if Falcon wants to play a game, much as I’d rather do almost anything else. He only gets more annoying to me when he’s bored, which I can tell he is, by the way he paces and fidgets now. 

Sighing to myself, I decide not to go just yet, I guess I’m just not ready. I haven’t decided how to go about it. Instead, I cross through the mess of tents, grabbing a waterskin from the supply closet, and a travel kit, something with basic things that we use in the field, including a packed meal that can be eaten quickly on the move. I plunk down in the shade, picking at the basic selection, looks like a small chunk of bread, and fruit, nothing inherently filling, and something that won’t spoil too quickly. A far cry nicer than the usual at least. Probably a ‘generous’ offering from the nobles. Upon lifting the bread, I’m mildly surprised there’s a wedge of cheese too. 

Falcon finds me easily, and sits across from me, too busy eating to worry too much about making conversation initially. I decide to hurry up and eat too before that changes. I’m finished with the bread and cheese and starting in on the fruit before he speaks, pointing to the tent not far from me. 

“Elias is here.” He says conversationally. 

I almost forget I lied and said things went fine for just a moment. I hold back the sigh I’d like to let out, instead nodding. 

“Mhm. I’d heard something to that effect.” I reply. 

“Must make you pretty happy.” He comments. 

Closing my eyes to avoid having to show that I’m thinking about it, I force a smile, nodding again. “Sure am.” 

“Have you seen him yet, or are you going after you eat?” He asks. 

What is it with everyone getting into my business lately? He should be off somewhere daydreaming about Lenna or something, not over here pestering me with a thousand questions about Elias. Then again, if not me, he might go to him instead and ask. That in mind, I swallow my frustration with the bits of pear, shaking my head. 

“I haven’t yet, but I’ll be going after this.” I tell him. Much as I’m still not sure what to do or say, I gesture to the thin scratch on my arm like it’s a big deal, even though I’d really rather just ignore it and go about my business. “Cullen says I need to get this looked at anyway.” 

He leans closer to take a look, turning my arm slightly to get a better view. He snorts slightly when he’s satisfied. “That man needs to relax. That’s nothing.”

I nod in agreement. Occasionally he says something I find no fault in, and this is one of those times. “Right? I’d happily not waste his time over something so minor, but I guess because it’s bleeding, I’m clearly going to die, so I need to have it seen to.” 

That gets an unexpected laugh, and for some stupid reason it gets me to smile. I don’t know why, maybe it’s just the way it sounds. 

“I guess it’s probably better that you do as he says rather than get in trouble with Leliana for not listening.” He sighs. 

“That’s true enough I guess.” I agree reluctantly. 

I finish up with my no-linger-quite-breakfast, and Falcon takes it from me with a gentle smile. “Go on, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. Best not to keep him waiting.” 

I really wish he hadn’t done that, I’m  _ trying _ to keep him waiting on account I still have nothing solid figured out. Still, if I’m going to go, I’m not going to waste supplies on a minor injury. Pushing myself to my feet, I roll my sleeve down as much as I can to hide it, making my way over to the tent. Doesn’t look very busy yet, so I’m fairly certain I won’t be interrupting anything important. Sighing, I stand up as tall as I can manage, pushing the tent flap open, walking in like I’m supposed to be there, rather than admitting I have no fucking clue what to say or do. Instead, we sort of just make eye contact for just a moment, and I’m certain he knows I’m lost. I’m fairly sure he is too. 


	28. Chapter 28

_**Elias** _

It’s been a hectic morning, keeping up the pretense of being the head servant, assigning everyone to their work, setting everyone to task, all that nonsense. I’m not exactly in the greatest of moods. Josephine’s already had to warn me about letting my temper get the better of me. Apparently this is old hat for her, and she’s grown quite accustomed to having to deal with someone’s temper. Because apparently there are quite a few of us in the Inquisition.

“Patience is a virtue, Healer,” she muttered in my ear before patting me on the shoulder and walking away.

I guess I’m not that virtuous then.

I wish I could be like others and mask my irritation behind a polite smile, instead of wearing all my emotions on my sleeve for others to see, but I was taught to be open and honest with people, not sneak around and play games with them. If there’s something I don’t want people to know, then I simply don’t talk about it. I don’t beat around the bush, and I certainly don’t play nice with people I utterly despise. But I sort of have to today. The Inquisition sort of relies on everyone’s ability to ‘play nice’.

But all of those thoughts empty from my head like water poured out of a pitcher the moment Piper steps into my tent. He looks sort of lost at first, like he just wandered in by accident, but instead of ducking back out once realizing where he is, he just stands there, staring at me. I don’t know how I thought I’d feel once I saw him, but…right now I can’t even begin to be angry with him once I smell blood. “You’re bleeding,” I blurt out, stepping closer.

“Uh, yeah, about that…” He scratches his head as I’m looking him over, unable to hide my concern. I spot the tinge of red staining his sleeve. Looks like he tried to cover it up, but the blood is starting to seep through.

“You’re hurt!” I practically whimper, reaching for his arm. “Let me see.”

“It’s just a scratch,” he sighs, and I huff at him, blowing my hair out of my face, scowling.

“As if I haven’t heard that one before. ‘Just a scratch’, he says. That’s what they all say. ‘Oh, it’s just a scratch!’ You ignore it, let it fester, you risk infection. Next thing you know it’s septic and I have to amputate.”

Obviously what I said unnerved him a little and he grimaces. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Come, sit,” I say, tugging on his elbow, gesturing to my cot. “Let’s take a look at it.”

He stubbornly resists, but only at first, and eventually sits down on the cot with a sigh. I settle down next to him and carefully peel back his sleeve. He’s right, it’s only a shallow flesh wound that won’t even need stitches, let alone any sort of magic, but it does need to be cleaned and bandaged. It would be so simple to cast a quick healing spell to close the wound, but I was ordered not to use my magic until given implicit instruction to do so by one of the advisers.

Should anyone discover that I’m an apostate and suspect the Inquisition is up to something, negotiations could fail and a lot of people could be hurt unnecessarily. I reach in the nearby stand for some cotton, cleaning solution, and bandages. “At least I’m not faking this time,” Piper mumbles as I set the items on the bed, making me recall to mind the last time he needed medical attention. I still remember it. Kneading his shoulders and neck, the sensual feel of my hands in his hair.

I snort a little at his words. I’m tempted to say ‘Feel free to fake an injury anytime’, but then I remember what happened between us, and I keep my mouth shut. I concentrate on the task at had, soaking the cotton in the solution. “This is going to sting a little,” I warn, before pressing it to the cut as gently as possible. He winces just a touch, but over all doesn’t seem to care. I admire his pain tolerance. I’ve seen grown men cry like babes over far less.

“I’m just going to clean it and then bandage it,” I say as I work. “You’ll want to keep it covered for at least a day, to keep out dirt and debris. Allow it time to heal on it’s own.”

Piper nods a little. “Thank you,” he says.

“It’s my job,” I say, neutrally, trying not to sound too much like I’m proud to do it, or bothered either. Just doing what I’m supposed to do.

We fall silent for a little while, and I wonder if now is a good time to talk about what happened, at least to get some closure between us. I don’t know if I’m ready to apologize. I don’t know if he deserves an apology. Or even if he still cares. Everyone else seems convinced it’s my fault, that I’m completely in the wrong, and the only one with a problem between the two of us. But Piper accused me of some things too, and they were hurtful things. Obviously he doesn’t think he’s in the wrong either.

But we have to start somewhere.

Maybe with the truth.

And even though Piper may not feel like he can be honest with me, well, maybe I can start with some honesty of my own.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you about some things,” I say, and he glances up at me, curious. “I didn’t lie,” I’m quick to add, before he can assume. “But uhm…” I sigh. “I didn’t tell you everything.”

“I already know everything there is to know about you, healer.”

It takes a great amount of effort not to scoff at that statement. Maybe he just meant he knows everything he _wants_ to know about me. I resist the urge to snap at him, sigh, and simply say, “So then you must know how I feel.”

Piper opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but after further consideration, it closes, and he sighs.

“No… I don’t, actually,” he admits, looking away and part of me feels victorious in that.

“I didn’t think so,” I mumble, wrapping the linen bandage around his arm. It’s easy to assume you know that sort of thing about someone. You can see their anger, their happiness, their sadness, and think you know everything, but you won’t always know _why_ they’re that way. That’s what people like Sister Leliana are always interested in. Doesn’t matter the _what_ so much as the _how_ , or the _why_. Piper keeps his eyes on the cloth of the tent in front of him while I speak.

“I’m scared,” I admit with a dejected sigh, thinking back on my conversation with the Spymaster before I left Haven. Piper furrows his brow.

“What are you scared of?”

“A lot of things, actually. Being hurt again, for one.”

“This has to do with the Lieutenant, I assume.”

I bristle a little at Wickam’s mention. Shouldn’t surprise me that Piper should know all about that, or at least, what everyone else knows about that. Which means he knows he hurt me, but he may not know why or how. “That’s part of it, yes. But it’s not just him. Every man I’ve been involved with, I never meant anything to them. All they ever want me for was sex, and then cast me to the side like I never mattered in the first place, with no regard for my personal feelings whatsoever.”

For a moment Piper looks as if he’s about to question, but I don’t give him the chance.

“Please, just let me finish. I know you’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all of this, and I’m getting to that part…I just…The night we had dinner, I let my fears get the better of me. I didn’t think anyone could possibly care about me, I mean truly care about me, and I guess I was just trying to find something wrong to convince me it would never work between us, because it seemed better than to ever let you hurt me later on. I regret it. You shouldn’t have to pay for someone else’s mistakes.

It wasn’t your fault those men treated me that way. None of this is your fault. I’m not asking you to forgive me, or even asking for another chance. I just thought you should know that. All I wanted was honesty. I never expected your whole life story, Piper. I just thought maybe we both deserved a chance to have something meaningful, if you wanted, and if not, just be honest with me about what you want from me. That’s all I needed. I didn’t want to be with someone if all they were going to do was play games with me, and treat me like I mean nothing to them.”

Now that I’ve finished my speech, and now that Piper’s arm has been bandaged, there’s no more reason to keep him here, so I let go of his arm, that I was absently petting affectionately as I spoke without even realizing. I stand up, brush off my apron and busy myself with putting away the extra bandages and cotton. I have no expectations of Piper, none whatsoever, and I half think he might just duck out of my tent without a word to be said about the matter.

Unconsciously I brace for the worst, which would be some flippant comment about how much of an idiot I am. Maybe how it’s my own fault I was treated like dirt. That maybe I should’ve picked better men to be involved with.

Maybe that’s exactly what’s wrong with me.

“Did you get the answers you were looking for?” I hear him ask, and turn around, confused. He looks slightly irritated for some reason, but I can’t pinpoint if he’s mad at me, or just mad about something. Doesn’t look remorseful in anyway, but there’s a hint of some indiscernible emotion in his deep blue eyes. “The book I left in your cabin. Did you ask Leliana about my family?”

“Oh, uh, no,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t ask.”

“Why did you even bring it up then, if you didn’t even care?”

“It’s not that I don’t care, Piper,” I say, correcting his assumption. “I didn’t need to know your family tree. I honestly wouldn’t care if your fourth cousin is secretly having an affair with the Queen of Ferelden. I could give two shits about any of that. I just wanted to get to know you. The real you. _From you_. If you want me to know about your family, then you’ll tell me. If not, oh well. I’m certainly not going to go to your boss for juicy tidbits about you.”

He studies me for a moment. “Oh,” is all he says about it. He heads for the opening of the tent and flips it open, but pauses. “…Varadis,” he says quietly, and I blink in surprise. Not an elven word I know.

“What does that mean?”

He snorts a little, rolling his eyes. “It’s my name.”

Oh…Oh! His _name_!

“You said I was a total stranger. Well, I just told you my name, so now we’re not total strangers. I’m…I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, not right now. Maybe one day. But I hope that’s enough for you at least.”

I smile a little. “It’s enough,” I say. It’s more than enough.

It’s not everything, but it’s more than I expected from him.

“But don’t tell anyone, or I’ll have to kill you.”

I chuckle a little. “I won’t tell anyone. I quite like knowing something others don’t,” I say. “Makes me feel privileged.”

“You should,” he says, then disappears from my tent.

I can’t wipe the smile off my face after he’s gone.

I know his name.

Varadis.

I rather like it, honestly. It suits him.


	29. Chapter 29

_ I told him my name.  _ I’ve never even told Falcon my name. Hell I never told Cullen my name, but I’m not surprised he knows it. I’m certain the basics were shared with those important enough to know it. I’m actually sure Falcon probably dig it up, he digs through files when he’s bored, wouldn’t at all be surprised if he did. But for  _ me  _ to tell someone? I’m both surprised and concerned. How badly do I just want to talk to him again that I told him? 

Any thought I had of catching a quick nap before the action happens is completely out of my mind in favor of trying to figure out the reason behind it. I know if anything it would only  _ please _ Leliana that I trusted someone enough to share even that much, but why? Why would I do that? 

I’m busy thinking about it, when Cullen waves me over to give me an update. Before he speaks, his eyes fall to my arm and I swear I see a hint of a smile. I like it, he doesn’t smile enough, but right now, I’d love to knock it off him. How dare he smile at my expense. It’s his fault I had to go in the first place, I’d have been happy to ignore it. I’ve let worse injuries go before. Amputation my ass. I’m sure he’s probably right, he’s the healer, not me, but  _ still _ ! 

And what about that weird conversation?  _ He’s  _ been hurt? He’s been  _ used? _ I’m sure at least someone cared for him at one point. I’m sure he had a relatively normal upbringing with parents that at least  _ vaguely  _ cared what he wanted, what would make him happy. My parents love me, that I don’t doubt, but they don’t give a whit what I want, only what’s needed to keep what status we’ve gained. Granted I’ll concede it’s out of fondness for my aunt and how far she had to go to get that much for us. I know my father hadn’t  _ wanted _ to leave the clan, but I can’t begin to say what my mother wanted. I never bothered to ask, only to distance myself from their more ambitious endeavors where I’m concerned. 

I’m stressed now. Thinking about home has a way of wiring me up that little else can. I need a drink, but that has to wait. I know better than to drink on the job, it’s what gets good people hurt. Stupid mistakes made at inopportune times. 

“Are you still with me, Piper?” Cullen asks. 

Heaving a sigh, I nod. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. I was just thinking.” 

He looks me over seriously, as if trying to make sure I’m actually fine and not just saying that. After a few moments, he relents with a quiet ‘hm.’ 

“Anyway, the Herald is about ready to go in. You’ll make up part of the team that provides him backup.” He says. 

Startled, I shake my head, waving my hands. “Oh no. No, see, I’m a  _ spy _ , not a  _ soldier _ . Your men march in and cut things. I just look it over and tell you what to expect. You never mentioned this before or I most certainly would have disagreed with you immediately.”

Leliana said to follow his orders, but I didn’t bargain on putting myself in the way of heavily fortified bucketheads. Especially if there could be red lyrium involved? I’ve had a chance to look over Varric’s observations on the subject and  _ no thank you _ , I’m not keen on the possibilities. None of this is ideal, and I’d definitely rather not deal with it at all. 

He sighs, gesturing to the tent that holds his soldiers. “I hate to admit it, but they need someone like you in their with them. They’re much better than most, but try as I might to teach them, they aren’t the most observant. You’re good at that, you can help.” 

“So throwing me in between your men and theirs is the best way to do that? I can sneak through on my own, but you realize I can’t slip out of this if a fight breaks out? Quarters will be too close for accurate shots, if I can even get any off. You’re going to be putting me at a severe disadvantage here.” I try to argue. “I suppose this is an order?” 

“If it needs to be. I respect you enough not to want to have to, but you were sent with for a reason. I would see you used to your fullest potential.” He reasons quietly. 

Rather than argue the point further, I groan, throwing my arms up in frustration. “Fine. Just show me where to go. Do you want me with Cadash or with your men?” 

“You can wait with the soldiers if you like, or you can meet up with them when they go in.” He says. 

Thinking it over, I decide I’d rather meet up with them when it’s time. I need a bit to finish turning the air blue before I go join up with them. I’d rather not do anything to get myself into trouble just because I’m not thrilled with his decision. Still, it’s probably not going to do any good if I bother to complain either. It’s not like I’ve never had to fight, I know how, this won’t be a big deal, I’d just rather not if it were up to me. 

“I’ll join them in a bit. I just need a bit. Gotta clear my head and make sure I’m as prepared for this as I can be.” I tell him. “Suppose no one brought extra gear?” 

“I’m afraid not.” He says. 

“Of course not. Let’s hope no one decides I look like an appropriate place to leave a sword then, shall we?” I grumble on my way out of the tent.” 

Glancing towards the designated area, I make a sound in the back of my throat, the only thing I can think of to express just how shit this is. I look around the yard, wondering where Falcon got to and if he’s supposed to join as well. I forgot to ask, but I have my doubts they’d ask him to go, he’s probably lucky enough to get lookout. Just wait and watch to see if things go horribly wrong.

It doesn’t even occur to me that he might have gone off on a mission to ruin my life. Incidentally, exactly what he’s doing. 

-

Falcon scans the yard, Piper nowhere to be seen. Must still be with Elias. He’s not in any obvious place after all, not anywhere napping, and he wouldn’t bother with the nobles if he can help it. He wasn’t in with the soldiers, which seems to leave just the healer as a place he could reasonably be. Well, given that Piper was his best friend, he supposed he was probably overdue to get to know him a little bit better anyway. 

Whistling quietly to himself, he made his way over to the tent, pushing his way in. Didn’t appear to be a line outside, so it was like as not he wasn’t going to be interrupting any business at least. Strangely enough, and perhaps slightly disappointing, Piper was nowhere to be seen. Elias was, however, and so he took a seat out of the way, just in case someone did need to be tended to. 

He looked around curiously, taking in the neat and mostly clean appearance of the tent. There were things in here that he was familiar with, but most of it wasn’t. 

“Did you need something?” Elias asked. 

“Huh? Oh. I was just looking for Piper.” He said absently. “Guess he’s not here. I mostly just wanted to talk, but since I’m here, I’ll talk to you. I’d imagine he’s not in a very happy state of mind anyway, what with Leliana writing to his parents. Probably just wondering when they’ll show up and how he’ll explain you.” 

Elias stopped organizing, glancing over his shoulder at him. Of course he didn’t want to press to much, it should be Piper’s choice whether to tell him or not, but he did have some questions now. 

“Why would he need to explain me? Are they dangerous? Do they not know he’s gay?” He asked.

“Oh. Nah, they know he prefers men, they don’t so much have a problem with his preferences, it’s just...well I mean I guess it’s a little bit of a problem. They want an heir, so being with a man won’t get that for them, but like they don’t care otherwise, I imagine.” 

“I don’t...an heir? Why would he need an heir though?” He wondered, more to himself than anything. 

Falcon hummed quietly. “I see. You don’t know, do you?” He debates with himself if he should bring it up, deciding for his friend’s sake, he probably should. Not like he’d be too willing to bring up something that potentially important. 

“You know, he really likes you. That’s the important thing, don’t let it worry you too much. Piper doesn’t care what they think, he does what he wants. Even ran away from home for a few years before he came here.” He said, nodding slowly. “His Mother is a Bann, inherited it because of his aunt. That’s why Leliana sort of worries about him, she’s dating her. Or...maybe engaged? Married? I forget the details, but Piper is actually pretty important, he’s a noble, but you really can’t tell the way he acts. More moody than snooty, I think. Really though, he’s just great, I like him. Hard to make friends here. He gives me a lot of issue for it, but I know he likes me too.” 

Falcon stood up, wandering over to peer out the tent flap for just a moment, trying to gauge the situation outside, see if it was time for him to head out yet. People were starting to gather, and he noticed Piper standing among a group of soldiers, Cadash standing by the gate with his arms crossed, looking every bit, if not slightly more annoyed than Piper did. Maybe he was just thinking about that nap he missed out on?

He didn’t really give Elias a chance to answer or ask questions, switching the subject almost as quickly as he had brought it up. Smiling, he looked at him again. 

“If you see Lenna before I get to, tell her I’m really looking forward to seeing her? I’ll make sure our picnic is really great. Piper made sure to give me some really great advice so I think it’ll be better than she expects.” He asked. 

“Oh...sure, I’m sure you’ll see her first, but I’ll pass it on if I do.” He said. 

“Looks like Piper’s about to go in. Didn’t realize Cullen would make him go with the soldiers. He’s gonna hate that. He might grumble about it to you, he’s great on his own, but he gets a bit uncomfortable in a group. Let’s hope this goes smoothly, or he might really be in a rough mood.” He sighed. “Looks like that means we should get to our places. I’m on watch, so I’ll try to give you a head’s up if it looks like you’ll be busy. Templars aren’t supposed to be too unreasonable though, so I’d gather this is going to be a breeze. Not even sure why all of this was necessary, to be honest.” 

Falcon walked out, crossing the yard to take his post, waving happily to Piper when he took note of him. Sighing, Piper unfolded his arms, waving once in return. The gates opened, and Cadash and his legion of nobles headed in, Piper rolling his eyes in response to it. He couldn’t tell what he was saying, but he knew he was muttering something by the way his mouth moved. He called it, definitely not happy about this. Cullen said something to him, and he slid in behind Cadash, not one person bothering to look his way, probably going in ahead to alert the others if there was trouble. 


	30. Chapter 30

I’m sort of stuck on what Falcon blurted out to me about Leliana being in a romantic relationship of some kind with Piper’s aunt. Would explain why she’s so protective of him. She’s not just his boss, but she’s practically _family_ too. Must be nice, to have someone like that here. Not just a friend, or someone to drink and play cards with, but family that cares about your well being. Me, I’ve got plenty of people that tolerate my presence sure, but I’m expendable. I’m just the healer. I can easily be replaced. And people like Varric, Sera, and especially the Herald, don’t want for friends.

And I’m not someone’s _nephew_.

What Falcon said about his aunt being really important though, it stands out to me. I don’t think he meant to mention all of that stuff, sounded like it was accidental it was brought up in conversation in the first place, probably thought I already knew everything. But the bit about his mother being a Bann? From what I’ve been told, that’s some kind of human noble title, which means his family has land and money and stuff like that. Well, just how important is Piper’s aunt then?

For such a title to be given to an _elf_?

I almost didn’t catch the rest of what he said after telling me this, and it has me wondering. It should be Piper’s decision to talk about his family with me, but honestly, that doesn’t mean I can’t know who they are, does it? I mean, if I’m not even asking about Piper, but asking about Leliana, what’s the harm? If I’m not supposed to know, then no one will tell me, and that’s the end of it. But if it’s no secret they’re together, then what’s so wrong with asking Josephine about her friend?

If anyone would know, it would be the Ambassador. She’s been friends with Leliana since before the Inquisition got started. She’s still at camp, holding down the fort, while the others are inside the Templar fortress speaking to the Lord Seeker and whatnot, so I find her easily enough, speaking with one of the Inquisition’s patrons in another tent. “Ah, what can I do for you, Messere Elias?” She asks me, after politely excusing herself from the other person’s company and they leave.

“So, uh,” I scratch my head, “Heard a rumor Leliana has a lover, is it?”

“Oh! Why yes, of course. Leliana and Lady Mahariel have been lovers for ten years now. You had not heard this before?”

“No. I hadn’t.”

Shit! The Hero of Ferelden?!

Well, no wonder his family’s so important!

“You truly don’t know very much about what has transpired in Ferelden, do you?” Josephine then asks me, and I shake my head. It’s really all I can do after a surprise like that.

I’m too _shocked_ to do anything else.

Now everything Falcon said makes sense. I suppose I should be glad things didn’t work out between us, because then that means I don’t have to cause a rift between Piper and his family, or worse, get cast aside like I mean nothing if Piper suddenly comes to the realization that he’s better off doing what his family wants him to do. Which would mean marrying a woman and having children to pass on their land and titles to. I won’t be hurt even worse than I am right now.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Josephine asks me, when I’ve been standing there staring at the ground, putting all the pieces together, and I guess she could see my shock and sudden disappointment over something. I shrug a little, folding my arms like I’m just cold, and it’s the Ferelden weather affecting me. Am I alright, she asks? Don’t know how to answer that question really. I could just lie and say I’m fine, but she’d probably see right through it. Everybody can.

“What do you do when you learn the someone you might possibly be falling for is more important than he originally let on?” I ask, trying to be vague without actually lying, but even that doesn’t work.

“This has to do with Piper, I assume?” she asks.

“No, no, of course not.”

“Leliana is right, you _are_ a terrible liar, Messere Elias.”

I sigh at that. Couldn’t just for once someone actually believe me when I deny something?

“Okay fine. It’s about Piper.”

I can tell that Lady Josephine put two and two together about my questions regarding Leliana and the one about him. I don’t know if she was previously aware of who Piper’s family is or not, but instead of interrogating me about what I know, she simply sighs and places a hand on my shoulder. “It is true, that the young man you speak of has an obligation to his family, one that likely doesn’t work in your favor, Elias. And I understand this must be very painful for you to hear.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I grumble, pouting.

“But you must understand this is simply the way of the world, my dear. We are all expected to fulfil our duty, you yourself are expected fulfil your own. In times like these, we should not allow things that which we cannot change to create rifts between us, and we should instead simply cherish what moments we are allowed with the people we care for. I am certain that Piper cares for you, Elias. So you shouldn’t deny him, or yourself, an opportunity to love one another, while you can.”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I’m sure whatever Josephine just said was meant to make me feel better, but it doesn’t. Though I’m stunned to hear that she too thinks Piper cares for me. Why is everyone convinced of that? First Leliana implied I actually hurt his feelings with what I said to him at dinner, then everyone else, including Falcon, and now Lady Josephine, seems to think he still cares about me? Why would he? Obviously I don’t matter that much to him.

Oh sure, he gave me is name, but that was more of a “No hard feelings, ole chap.” You know, just leaving the door open for us to be friends afterwards. He didn’t tell me that because he has any romantic feelings, did he? What is everyone else seeing that I’m not? Honestly, he seems happier now. Much happier without me. And with as handsome as he is, he could have any man he wants. He’s probably already moved on with someone else, and I’m wasting my breath.

We’re just friends, right?

Why is everyone trying to convince me otherwise?

And if we’re just friends, then why do I still have feelings for him?

Why can’t I stop thinking about him?

I thank Josephine for her candid advice and head back to my tent, to wait there until I’m needed for something. Not really much to do except wait for the Herald. I really wish Lenna was here. But if she were, she’d probably just be hanging around Falcon, and there’s no one else to talk to. Even if all I wanted was to just make idle chat with someone, most everybody I know by name is busy. There are more important things to worry about at the moment than my problems.

So I sit on my cot and drum my fingers on the sheet. Being alone used to not bother me, but for some reason I hate it now. I guess maybe because I know how great it can be to just have someone to talk to. Along with everything else I packed that I felt might be necessary for the trip, I brought a couple of things I didn’t necessarily need, but didn’t want to leave behind. I reach in the trunk and pull out the two wooden horses Piper carved for me back at Haven and turn them over in my hands.

Yes, I finally named them. Rune, and Sky Dancer. I know it’s silly, but they comfort me. I sit and stare for a while, trying to come to terms with the truth I learned today, and figure out how to deal with it. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting like this on my cot, but it only feels like a few minutes before I feel something rumble underneath my feet, like an earth quake, then a loud booming sound, somewhat like an explosion.

Seconds leter someone bursts into my tent, wide eyed, saying, “Healer! Come quick!” It’s Falcon, and didn’t he say he’d give me fair warning if there was trouble on the rise?

I jump from my spot and run out, following him up the path to where people are gathering, trying to see what happened at the Templar stronghold, but the walls are too high. A bit of smoke billows from inside, and their are distant sounds of shouting, but little more can be discerned at the moment. But something is happening, and it looks like negotiations fell flat. Whatever is going on, it can’t be good. Which means the Herald and his companions are in danger.

And because he went in with them, so is Piper.

“Where’s Piper?” I ask Falcon, frantically, shaking his shoulder to get his attention when all he can do is gape.

“He never came back out,” he says. “Don’t know what’s going on.”

Cullen comes up the path then, meeting me and Falcon where we’re standing, just as Josephine and Leliana are jogging up. “They’ve barricaded the front and rear gate,” Cullen tells them. “And we don’t have siege equipment to get inside. My men can’t scale the walls. It could be hours before we know what’s happening in there.” He shoots a quick glance at Falcon, before saying with extreme worry, “And the one man that knows how to get inside is in there with them.”

 _Piper_.

Falcon anxiously runs fingers through his hair. “Do you think you could try, Falcon?” Leliana asks him, and he shrugs, unsure.

“Piper has a way of doing things even I could never master,” he says. “And he was sure to cover his tracks, leaving no trace of which way he’d went. Didn’t want the Templars catching on to our activities. He was always careful.”

“Obviously a bit too careful.”

The advisers wrack their brains on how to get the Herald out safely, and meanwhile I’m wracking my own brain about Piper. There’s not enough men to launch an attack on the fort from the outside. And while they can handle their own, that many Templars against such small of a force? Minutes tick by, the sounds coming from the fortress intensifying, along with the worried whispers of those standing and watching, helpless to intervene. While inside…

“Wait a Godsdamned minute!” I say, scurrying over to the Commander. “You notice something wrong with this picture?”

Suddenly it hits him too. “No one is attacking anyone out here,” he says. “No arrows, nor any other projectiles. The fighting is only inside the walls.”

“Which means all their attention is on whatever is happening inside,” Leliana adds. “More importantly, on the Herald. Now would be the perfect time to strike. We may not be able to send in an army, but _one_ person-”

“The _right_ person,” Josephine interjects. “Someone _else_ very good at slipping in and out of fortresses.”

“They could open the gate from the inside,” Cullen finishes.

And would it be just my luck that they’re not turning their gazes on Falcon.

They turn to _me_.

“Wait no. Getting out of the Avvar’s stronghold, I had help. I can’t do it alone.”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” Cullen tells me. “We can’t go in trough Piper’s route, but you can get in _your_ way.”

I sigh. “Gods damn it all,” I mutter, then crack my neck before shifting.

Falcon jumps back and hides behind the Commander, screaming, “Shit!”

This form is much bigger, and a bit more useful than the one I usually take. I come up to Cullen’s hip now, and I’ll be able to climb faster and jump higher than any one person.

“I thought Varric made it all up!” Falcon screeches and I let out a growl before I take off in a sprint. As a panther I’ll have an advantage when it comes to getting inside Therinfal Redoubt, but as for my advantage once I’m actually inside? Not so sure about that. A few people gasp in shock as I run by, headed up to the top of the nearest boulder, one that straddles the outer wall, then I jump. Pushing all of my magic into the jump and reaching with my paws I latch onto the wall and scramble up the side.

It’s all down hill once I get over the wall, but I guess I should’ve looked before I leapt, because contrary to popular belief, no, cats _don’t_ always land on their feet, you know. And me? The unlucky bastard that I am, I run and jump off the wall only to find myself bouncing off a stack of crates and crashing to the ground.

And when I crack open my eyes, I find I’m not alone either.


	31. Chapter 31

I’m mildly surprised at just how willing Cadash is to go along with all the pointless formality to the situation, and dealing with entitled nobles is not my specialty, much less his. The soldiers stay put by the gate initially, waiting to hear if they’re needed inside. I slip in unnoticed to observe, and it’s not long until things look to be going poorly. Cadash swears as the room fills up with Templars, and I immediately flee outside to round them up. 

They rush in to assist what few Templars are inclined to help, and in the clamor, I’m surprised I’m still going unnoticed. His associates are as ever, in peerless form today, and frankly I’m more impressed with their prowess than even one of Cullen’s men. He does good work but I can tell these men need way more help. If there were enough hands to go around, someone could take the time to teach each one individually, but there’s just never enough people. 

Then it happens. I hear the gates lock up, separated from anyone who might be able to help. I’m supposed to help, but I’m trying to find an alternative route that someone could take in the event things go terribly wrong, that is to say much worse than they already are. From the outside, I’m certain things still appear to be going well, and for all my knowledge of the interior layout? There’s not a single entry point they haven’t blocked. Help isn’t coming now. I know that. 

I knew this was going to happen. Well, not  _ specifically  _ this, but I knew as soon as Cullen said I was going in that things were going to end badly. I’m far from ready to give up, but there’s every chance that this place may end up not just  _ my _ grave, but everyone’s. I’m not one for religion, never had a use for faith, but Mythal, help me, I hate every part of this. 

Stuck with no good way in or out, I resolve myself to find Cadash. Arguably he’s the most important person in these walls, and if he falls, Thedas does too. He’s not hard to find, but...for some reason he just stands there with this almost horrified expression on his face. I know little enough about magic aside from fighting demons, and I’d say perhaps that was it, but dwarves have no connection to the Fade, they’re not mages, why would a demon go after him, and now of all times? 

The soldiers and his associates are all busy, but there’s more incoming and no one left to deal with them. Cursing under my breath, I reach for my bow. My blade will be too ungainly to efficiently find the gaps in their armor quickly enough, especially with the added  _ decoration  _ if you could call it such a thing. I’ve killed a few Templars in the midst of the war, and hitting them with arrows is bloody hard. I’m a good shot, but most of the time you’d be hard pressed to not have your arrows bounce right off. Again I find myself hoping Andruil guides my bow today, and I’m actually a little surprised when I manage to take one Templar down on the first shot, finding the thin gap between the helmet and chest piece, the next one, however, I hit the same spot and it only staggers him for the briefest moment before he resumes staggering towards me. 

“Damn it all, Cadash, this is  _ not _ the time to be standing around, any time you want to help is completely fine with me!” I shout. 

No answer. Typical. Notching another arrow, I try again, watching it bounce harmlessly off. Another, to the same effect, and finally, he goes down. Glancing around, the others are still busy, and struggling as much as I am. There’s still more, and more coming at regular intervals. I am not equipped for this, not this many enemies, not by myself. 

At this rate, especially if I keep missing, I’ll run out before I can make a dent, but I keep it up in the vain hope either Cadash or  _ someone, actually anyone _ will come assist me. I have little choice but to keep shooting while I have the ability to do so. I manage to take two more down, and I frantically scan the bodies quickly for more arrows, but of course not a fucking one has any. No time to try and retrieve the one's I’ve fired off either, not now at least. 

“Cadash, any time!” I try again. 

He doesn’t even blink, let alone look at me, no answer. The commotion behind me catches my attention, and I notice one of Cullen’s men is nursing what appears to be a shattered arm of the bone jutting up just behind his shield tells me anything. I don’t have to be a healer when the diagnosis is so obvious. There’s no time for anyone to tend to it either. 

Cursing loudly, I fire off my last arrow, realizing it’s either the dagger or make use of my magic at this point. I’m just about to try to stab one rapidly approaching me, before I have to step back to avoid losing my hand. I’m able to recover enough to miraculously jab it into his throat, it’s getting it back out that’s the problem. I don’t have enough time to pry it back out, instead maneuvering the dead Templar over enough to use as a shield. His armor deflects the sword, and I push him back, throwing the other Templar off balance. 

I can’t get away to get back outside to signal Falcon, but I know if I’m loud enough, he should be able to hear it. I can’t yell that loud from here, but I think I know one way I can get his attention. I just need a break, if I do it here, the epicenter would be too close, Cadash and the others would take the most of the damage, best to get as close as possible to them if this had any hope of succeeding, and of course it was inviting the wolves in with the sheep, surrounded by Templars, and not just that, but if by some miracle I get out of this? No doubt Cullen will have questions, such as how Leliana never decides to disclose the apostate in their ranks? Oh yes, she knows, he does not. I’m not very good at it, but I’ve played enough cards to know you don’t reveal your cards, especially not the aces in your sleeves. 

“If any of you can manage, you’ll want to hold onto something, this isn’t going to be fun.” I announce loudly. 

Just as I’m about to get to it, I feel my arm throb, moments before I feel a bad slice into my back. It hurts about as much as you’d expect a fucking sword to, but I can’t afford to give in right now, I have to grit my teeth and try. Thankfully, someone knocks him away from me, but I can’t look away long enough to see who. Kneeling on the ground, I plant my hands on the floor. You could say my magic is a bit wild in that I’m not great at controlling it. Could be weak, could accidentally bring the whole place down. The ground rumbles slightly at first, then the aftershocks, fierce tremors trembling through the ground, bits of loose debris falling from the ceiling, thankfully not enough to collapse the place after all. 

Cadash sways a bit but doesn’t look still and I’m concerned. Thankfully, his center of gravity is low enough not to knock him over. I can hear shouting outside, maybe Falcon’s panicked voice. I’m not sure of anything other than the blood warming my back where a breeze cuts through the tears in the leather and cloth. 

More of a blessing, most return to their feet, finally coming to take care of what few are still alive and moving. I hear strange noises outside, and now that I’m free, I decide I can go check at least. Maybe pass along word through the gates that we have some wounded inside, and that Cadash appears to be in trouble. On my way through the corridors, I spy a rack filled with quivers, and I grab two, though I don’t think I’ll be shooting anything for a bit. The sudden burst of mana gone and the injury are stacking. I feel dizzy, vision blurring, I doubt I’ll be able to draw my bow at all without making the pain worse. 

I manage to slip back through the chaos mostly unnoticed save for a trail of blood droplets indicating my exact path. Falcon is banging on the gates, and I make my way over, quick to pass on my message just in case I pass out, or worse, die here. He tells me he’ll pass it on and that they’ve sent Elias in. I didn’t see him, and I’m initially not sure how he managed to slip in until I hear a racket further down, turning in time to see a fucking panther, no time to ask, naturally. 

I’m really not sure if it’s Elias or not. For all I know I’m imagining it. Maybe I’m delirious. Maybe it’s an actual cat and I’m going to be dinner, but there’s more Templars descending on him and before I can think to question it, I force myself into a sprint, skidding to an agonizing stop near him. This is going to hurt either way. I notch another arrow, letting it fly, managing to hit my target, warning the rest of my presence. 

“Damn bastards… didn’t get my message? I’ll send it again if I have to. I’m the one you want, not him.” I groan as threateningly as I can manage. 

It probably doesn’t sound anywhere near as scary as I’d like, but I’m surprised I’m standing still, let alone making threats I’m certain I can barely keep. I’m not sure it’s him. I’m not sure why I say it, I think I’m probably about to pass out, my mind is gone. 

“You’re not getting him, not when I haven’t even told him how much I like him.” I say, laughing weakly. 

I manage to fire off about three or four more shots, I can’t be sure, only that bodies fall, and he’s alright. I don’t have it left in me to keep going, but I slip between the panther and the Templars, my bow dropping out of my hand. I realize I need to keep going, I need to keep Cadash and the others safe, but I feel like if I move right now, I’ll definitely fall over. Maybe if I wait a bit, I’ll manage to fight it off enough to go back in. I’ll never get the chance to live it down if I fail to protect the Herald, if no one else. Cullen would give me that look if his men didn’t come back, but it’s not  _ his  _ looks I’m concerned with when there are more frightening people I’d rather not look at me like that.

Mythal might actually be on my side after all, when I see some of the soldiers rush out to help, though the panther gives them pause. The sounds of battle resume, and I wave him to follow me in, mostly just so I can put my hand on his back for support. I look down at him, giving his back a few slight scratches. 

“Hear that, damned cat? You can’t die on me. I got shit to say, so we have to make it out of here.” I tell him. 

I can’t even tell if it...or he I guess, can understand me, but if nothing else, he hasn’t torn my arm off yet, so I’m guessing it might really be Elias, after all. I don’t get to think about it, sneezing once, I feel it sting my wound and I grumble to myself, stubbornly pressing on fueled by nothing but pure irritation and fear. 


End file.
